Dragonborn Saga

504 Chapters has passed and here it is you beautiful bastards! All Hail to me, the Daedric Prince of s & Fiction whose sphere is Typos and Cliffhangers.

The Cult welcomes 4 D rank Warriors today:-

@Kuba

@Mathieu Marx

@Angel Diaz

@ICan’tGetEnough

——————————————————————

"Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

Now you must be wondering, how on Sweet Green Nirn did the most handsome man in the World get dragged into this situation alongside a Dumb Blonde Nord, a Big Bad Jarl, and a Smelly Horse Thief.

Well, it’s a long story but what’s important about it that it is a story that starts with Murder, that dumb Jarl beside me murdered the King and now the Empire is out for his head alongside any head that happened to head the same way he headed before getting taken to get beheaded!

Peace? Peace.

I love a day that starts with a good old beheading at 9 AM yet this is to be rescheduled so let’s just start this story properly. I am Jon Dare, and I am baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack, BITCHES!

***

« Morndas (Monday) 17th of Last Seed (August), 4E 201 - The Pale Pass »

It was a beautiful day by my standards, no one pissed me off just yet, I got a new tattoo, had cheese for breakfast, you get the gist of it. A perfect Jon Dare morning.

Jon Dare is more than just a name, it’s a reference and a lifestyle.

The reference is about a 6’ 7" Nord guy, red-haired and charming, blue-eyed and foolish, the biography of the past 20 years of my life is pretty much detailed. My real name is Jonhild son of Jonrad son of Ve of Clan Firemane of Eastmarch and I reincarnated from Earth where I was a fan of the Elder Scrolls franchise.

The lifestyle of Jon Dare is more of a very unstable mix between Pleasure and Fun with a little bit of Work and a whole load of Heroism. Also, my second name may be Dare but I’m not friendly to getting Dared. Historians will write about that in later generations anyway.

Now, where were we? Right! How did I end up getting captured with Ulfric Stormcloak and his goons? Well, this was according to my plan anyway.

The journey through Tamriel took me 4 months to get to Skyrim from Summerset. I decided to let it all to Fate and see where I end up and who could have thought that the so-called plan would work. I was just walking down the path from the Pale Pass to Helgen and out of nowhere, some soldiers appeared in a pretty haggard state led by Ulfric Stormcloak who was badly injured.

A few seconds later, they were surrounded by Imperials with me in the mix alongside some other unfortunate people. The Imperial Battlemages put the Stormcloaks in a tight situation and the Imperial Officers threw themselves on Ulfric before he could even utter a word and gagged him.

I was about to say "hey" to them but a soldier punched me right in the face, I didn’t put much resistance and pretended to have lost consciousness. I was then carried on some cart later on and before I know it, the cart moved.

As soon as I felt the cart moving and two voices started arguing, there was no point to pretend anymore and I opened my eyes that took time to adapt to the brightness of the morning.

[A/n: the Opening Scene is modded so expect extra lines alongside Jon’s replies. The mod is called "Opening Scene Overhaul" if you are interested.]

"Hey, you. You’re finally awake..."

Here we go!

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there!" The voice spoke to me then addressed another, that is surely Ralof.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell..." Another man in rags said, that’s Lokir.

While I was trying to sit straight, my head hit something metallic. I looked up and saw the cart I was in seemed to caged.

"Easy! Guards sure worked you over." Ralof said as he signaled for me to take it easy, "I told those Imperial Soldiers you weren’t with us but they just grabbed you. Stand with us or you stand against us, they said." Ralof said.

Hm? Did I cause the conversation to go wrong? Why is there a cage around this cart, I don’t remember any cages. Was it a mod?

"Shut up back there!" The cart driver shouted.

At least I remember that last part happening. The situation was a bit predictable but it seems that expectations differ from reality as everything is. I mean, since I reincarnated in Riften 19 years ago, things were seriously overwhelming being a world way different than what the game used to be. Cities larger, nothing is based on gameplay mechanics, even the coins are not just gold. This immersion in its bestest image. Now that the actual Game Events have finally started, I guess a caged wagon and some different dialogue lines should be the least of my worries, I just hope that my squad has done things as planned.

Back to reality, it seemed that Ralof and Lokir are still arguing about this and that. We were sat like this, Ralof facing me and Lokir facing Big Bad Ulfric. Ulfric was in his worn-out armor and beaten up sorry state, Ralof was the same, Lokir seemed to have gone through some shitty events that left him with some rags on and I was wearing nothing but plain common clothing that I bought from Bruma on the way here. Also, both Ulfric and Ralof know my real identity so I used an artifact known as [Lust] that has the Metamorphosis ability to change my appearance and height.

Now where was I? Right, we’re on the cart. After Lokir and Ralof were done arguing, Lokir turned to Ulfric.

"And what’s wrong with him, huh?" Lokir asked seeing Ulfric extra-gagged and over-tied.

"Watch your tongue. You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Ralof scolded.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they’ve captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" Lokir panicked hearing the identity of Ulfric.

"I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits." Remorsefully, Ralof gave condolences to himself.

"Sovngarde! Aye! It awaits with its flowing mead and endless feasts." I said something came across my heart.

"So you can speak, huh? Right. Mead! I can use some mead." Ralof replied to me.

"No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. Ulfric, you traitor! This is because of you, you’re the reason we’re here!" On the other hand, Lokir was venting his rage by glaring at Ulfric then he turned to me, "You there... You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, Horse Thief." Ralof sighed.

"What brings you to the cold grip of the Empire anyway? I know you are not one of the rebels." Lokir spoke to me.

"Just going back home, the borders were sealed so I found a way for myself." I replied.

"Hey, what holds are you two from?" Ralof asked us.

"Why do you care?"

"Because there will be no holds once the Empire has its way. No Jarls to rule over them, just Legion Soldiers and Martial Law. Every man, woman and child are part of this rebellion, horse thief. Everyone must fight from the freedom of the Nine Holds." Ralof spoke out his beliefs.

"Freedom of the Nine Holds? I don’t remember the Empire sweeping out every cutpurse in Skyrim before you bastards started butchering their soldiers." Lokir was in total disagreement with Ralof.

"I think he just asked you where are you from. After all, a Nord’s last thoughts shouldn’t be what disagreement he had with a brother Nord." I said and turned to Lokir.

"Right, a Nord’s last thoughts... should be of home." Ralof looked at me with strange eyes as I have read his mind or something... satisfaction.

"... Rorikstead. I’m... I’m from Rorikstead." Lokir said then asked us, "And you two?"

"Riverwood." Ralof said then turned to me.

"Well... I grew up in the woods of the Rift, fell in love with the magic of Eastmarch, charmed with the breeze of Whiterun, tasted the finest liquor in Haafingar, hunted the fastest game in Falkreath, my blood flowed in the stones of the Reach, haunted by the ghosts of Hjaalmarch and chased by the Giants on the Pale... but my heart, my heart belongs to Winterhold."

"Aye, well said, kinsman." Ralof nodded in approval.

Two years... I have been away for two years and no matter how beautiful the tropical beaches of Summerset were, Skyrim is still Skyrim. Winterhold is where I left everything, my family, my assets. I rebuilt this hold from the ground up and gambled against the odds to bring it back, now that I have done it all, I can’t wait to see my home once again.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good. Let’s get this over with."

What woke me from my daydreaming was the voice of an Imperial Soldier calling for the man leading the prisoners’ caravan, General Tullius. We looked ahead to see the wall of an Imperial fort coming into view with an Imperial General stopping at the gate and turning his horse to face some annoyingly familiar faces.

"Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Ralof said.

He accused the Thalmor to be cooperating with the Empire to catch Ulfric but that is far from the truth which I will get to later. From what I heard, General Tullius is a very cunning man and he managed to trap Ulfric and his force in Dark Water Crossing then chased them all the way to the south. Ulfric’s force was reduced from a thousand men to almost twenty and the man was beyond exhausted. I can see how General Tullius put Ulfric down.

I kept focusing on the General and the conversation he was having with the Thalmor’s Ambassador, Elenwen.

"... By the Authority of the Thalmor, I am taking custody of these prisoners." On her high horse, both literal and metaphorical, Ambassador Elenwen spoke to General Tullius.

"I am sorry, that’s just not possible. It would cause far too many problems." General Tullius replied calmly.

"You’re making a terrible mistake! Your Emperor will hear of this. By the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I operate with full Imperial authority." Elenwen refused to surrender in front of Tullius but the latter wasn’t even bothering with her.

"Ugh! Thalmor bitch!" Back in the cart, Ralof cussed as he turned his face towards the town.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Hmph!" I obviously snorted as he did. I know he was self-mocking but I liked how this conversation turned itself in twists as it still followed the game scene script.

I may have been reincarnated a long time ago but I have always been waiting for this day. This day where it all gets to take the shape of the Fate I am aware of.

Still, do you think that I haven’t added my touches to this Reality? I see things different no matter where I go. It seems that everything is in place as I wish for it.

We passed the citizens who were gathered to spectate the situation about the Legion bringing this many Stormcloak prisoners. I could hear various conversations between those who are happy that the Stormcloaks are being put to the block and others who were fearing the wrath of their Gods.

The prisoners’ convey started to disperse as soon as we reached the tower of Helgen’s keep. The Legion Soldiers started to block the crowd and surround us.

"Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think? End of the line." Ralof said, "Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us."

"No, wait! We’re not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

"You’ve got to tell them! We weren’t with you! This is a mistake!"

Ralof and Lokir still found the time to argue but soon, we were told to get down of the cart.

"Shut up, out of the cart now!" A grumpy Imperial female Officer made sure to hit us all with a baton as we went down then went down and stood beside a Nord Legion Soldier, the man known Hadvar. Anyway, that bitch is getting these hands once it happens.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time. Don’t even think about running!" She called for us to line up in front of the cart as Hadvar started calling our names.

"Empire loves their damn lists."

Hadvar looked at us with a heavy expression then called out.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm. Guilty of Regicide, High Treason and sentenced to Death."

Right in front of me, Ulfric grumbled as an Imperial Soldier tried to escort him. He simply walked towards the block by himself.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof said.

"Next in line. Name?" Hadvar looked at Ralof and patiently asked.

To see two friends torn out by war wearing different colors as one sends the other to the block, my beliefs regarding war were much deepened. The more I saw, the more I hated it.

Ralof stepped forward speaking.

"Ralof, proud son of Skyrim."

As Ralof followed Ulfric to the block without waiting Hadvar could only speak the sentence to his friend’s back.

"Stormcloak... sentenced to death. Next in line. Name?"

The following was Lokir. As he stepped forward, I was a step right on his heels.

"Lokir from Rorikstead and I am not a Stormcloak."

"It says right here you are. Sorry." Hadvar said not minding Lokir throwing a tantrum.

"No, please. All I did was to steal a horse. You’re not gonna ki..." Lokir was about to break into running but I hurriedly held him from his clothes.

"You run, you die. We still can talk our way out of this." I whispered to him.

"What? Are you mad?" He was about to throw his tantrum at me but I wasn’t pleased by disobedience on my part. All I did was telling him he can live without serving as a bad example for those who are thinking about running. I have seen this guy die like a million times already.

Lokir retreated silently and noticed that arrows were already notched and aimed at us. He cussed lowly and walked towards the block with a tensed face.

As we didn’t break into a run, the Imperials lowered their arrows and I stepped forward, this is my time to shine.

"Next in line. Step forward." Hadvar looked at his list from all angles and seemed to be not able to find a record of me, he then looked at me and asked, "Who are you?"

"Prisoner!" I replied.

"Hm?"

"Oh! I pressed return too fast again? Let me check. Right, showracemenu!"

"What is he..."

I raised a finger to halt Hadvar and the female Officer from speaking then pointed at my face.

Turn left, turn right, up, down. Tch, too handsome to be allowed to exist. Still, I had this thing about my nose...

Let’s see... a little bit thinner, straight, and the distance... perfect!

"Is it me or every time I adjust the nose in the Race Menu, I have this weird tingle feeling in my own nose. Only me? Fine. The jawline is also a pain but let’s end it here... press return and for the name... hmmm!"

I could see Hadvar and the Imperial Officer leaning forward to see the strange movements on my face but I was already ahead of them thinking about a name.

"Fine, I’ll go with the usual name..." I said and seemed like Hadvar has already dismissed what he saw as hallucinations.

"It is Jon Dare." I said with a broad smile.

Looking between the two in front of me, they somehow turned from amused to very unamused at a rapid pace.

"Another pretender?" The Officer said.

"They sure are a lot these days." Hadvar made the same face.

Hm? Pre-what?

"What’s going on here? Someone else pretended... I mean said... dammit! Did someone use the name?" I asked.

"Heh! You and almost every red-haired idiot we catch. They all think they can go away once they announce that identity." The officer said.

"What?"

"They claim that they are Jon Dare who is in hiding. The actual Jon Dare is in Cyrodiil, everyone knows that." Hadvar said.

"Oh!"

"Still, we will send your body to Winterhold as this is the official identity you’d be giving us, right?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Damn!"

People are stealing my identity. I return to Skyrim and the first thing that happens to me is a Mass Identity Theft? That’s unspeakable... did I even need to become the Arena’s Grand Champion and hire an actor to pose as me in public?

I was shocked.

"Anyway, you picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman. I’m sorry. At least you’ll die here, in your homeland." Hadvar said but I was not listening. I’m still shocked, "Captain. What should we do? He’s not on the list."

"Forget the list. He/She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

"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." As I arrived in the death line, General Tullius stood in front of Ulfric and started giving him a heroic speech from a victor to a loser.

"Hey, what should we do now?" I found Lokir asking me from behind.

"Just wait!" I said.

"Tsk! You crazy man, I should have never listened to you and took my chance."

"You’re welcome to try."

"You... are you even aware of the happenings of Skyrim? Why would someone return to this godforsaken land, you fool?" Lokir said.

"You want to leave? Why?" I asked.

"Are you blind? If the War is not enough then what about the Famine, Death, Corruption?" Lokir said.

"Oh! Looks like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are all gathered." I mocked, "Friend, it will just get worse, believe me."

Looking at the sky, I heightened my senses so that I can feel almost the tiniest change in the wind.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace..."

***

*HOOOWWWLLLL*

As if the wrath of the Divines was conjured, the heavens shook with a thunderous roar. Everyone quieted down to listen.

A beast from the mountains? A Troll? A Bear?

What an echo! The people murmured.

"What was that?" Hadvar asked as he observed the sky where he thought the sound came from.

"It’s nothing. Carry on." General Tullius dismissed it and hastened the execution.

"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rites." The Imperial Officer received the command and went to escort a Priestess of Arkay to the scene.

Meanwhile, Jon’s eyes were fixed on the sky and his heart was shivering. He could feel the restlessness around him. Later, The Officer and the Priestess of Arkay came and it all began to happen just as he remembers.

"Give them their last rites."

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with." That’s when a Stormcloak soldier didn’t seem to be liking to die with the prayers of an Imperial Priest and walked on his own to the block.

"As you wish." The Priestess stopped the prayer and retreated right away.

"Come on, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" Stormcloak faced the block and showed his scorn towards the Imperials.

The executioner in a black hood and a dark ringed armor stood beside the block and the Imperial Officer pushed down the Stormcloak Soldier.

Aaaand...

*Chop*

Jon’s heart almost jumped from its place as he heard the sound of the axe descend. It was happening. It’s all happening.

He did want it to happen but now that it is happening, he feels like the kid who entered his exam for the first time and wants to back away to prepare more. But there was no more, it is happening whether he liked it or not. His heartbeats started racing from this point on.

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"You Imperial bastards!"

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"Justice!"

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"As fearless in death as he was in life."

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"Hey, someone is killed already! Weren’t you about to do something?" Lokir pestered Jon but the latter didn’t respond.

*lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The officer called for Jon.

*lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub*

Jon’s heartbeats raced as he was aware of what’s going to happen after this line.

*HOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLLLL*

*lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub*

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar spoke out.

That mortifying roar caused everyone to question what’s going on now. It felt closer than before.

"I said, next prisoner!" The Imperial Officer ignored the sound and demanded for Jon to step forward. Jon was pushed from behind by an Imperial Soldier so he took a step forward.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." Hadvar escorted Jon right to the block but Jon’s eyes were still looking at a certain direction without caring. He was pushed down at the block.

*lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub*

Restlessness grew even more not just in Jon’s heart but also in his shadow. If the executioner who was raising his axe above Jon’s head was aware of how many Murderous attacks that will disfigure his body if his axe so much descends on Jon, this guy would die from the anxiety.

Jon still didn’t care and kept watching.

*lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-...*

His heart raced no more, his sweat dried in an instant, his stiff nerves relaxed, his eyes widened. But aside from all that, his mind couldn’t be still as he saw what he saw and heard what he heard and witnessed what he knew.

*HOOooOOWwWWwWLLLLLLLLLL!!!*

{Ahrk fin kel lost prodah.} (And the Scrolls have foretold)

"WHAT IN OBLIVION IS THAT?" General Tullius screamed as he looked up seeing the sky covered in black.

{Do ved viing ko fin krah.} (Of black wings in the cold)

"Sentries! What do you see?" The Imperial Soldiers reacted like headless ducks when they couldn’t even believe what they were seeing in the Sky.

{Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!} (that when brothers wage war come unfurled!)

"It’s in the clouds!" The Imperials were receding as the Black Wyrm showed itself and descended towards Helgen. Even the grim headsman dropped on his knees and looked back.

"Dragon!" The Stormcloaks recognized what sort of monstrosity that just descended.

"Don’t just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!" General Tullius shouted.

{Alduin, feyn do jun.} (Alduin, Bane of Kings)

Alduin, the World-Eater himself, emerged to the world in southern Skyrim at this very day to bring doom and terror upon Helgen. It descended on the mighty tower with its titanic size that made everything feel insignificant, that made the Nirn shake and the mountains shatter.

"STRUN BAH MAHFIL!"

The Dragon shouted in the Dovahzul releasing a terrible Thu’um. Forget about Ulfric Stormcloak’s war shouts and Jon Dare’s four disasters, they won’t even come close to what is happening here.

{Kruziik vokun staadnau.} (Ancient shadow unbound)

The sky was as if burning in a storm and stones came down raining from God knows where. Meteor after another, the land shook and the people ran in panic. Jon stood up from his place and looked at the Dragon that wasn’t even noticing him.

Jon felt as weak as any in front of that. Powerless as a deer whose necks fell between the jaws of a sabercat. This is not the day where he fights but he could only finish the last of this verse in tribute to the World Eater.

{Voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!} (With a hunger to swallow the World!)

~~~~~~~~~~

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