- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
Bjorn woke up on the wagon, still a bit dazed from the blow to his head, he groaned as he noticed his bonds on his wrists. He looked to his fellow prisoners, a Stormcloak soldier, a man in rags, and a man dressed rather well. He was returning from his training as an fist fighter in Cyrodiil, he was just getting through customs and coming out when he got mixed up in the ambush from the imperials.
It was suddenly clear what was happening. He was considered to be an unknown stormcloak, to be a prisoner of war with the others. This matter would be sorted out soon enough.
"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." Ralof said, motioning to the thief.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine till you came along, Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." The thief looked to Bjorn, "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, Thief." Ralof replied.
"Shut up back there." The soldier driving their wagon said.
"What's wrong with him?" The thief said, motioning to Ulfric.
"Watch your tongue!" Ralof yelled, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim!"
Bjorn laughed at this, "True high king?" He said, chuckling more, "No, no true king can be subjugated and put into binds. King has always meant one thing, the man with the best army. An Emperor is a man who takes kings under his hold and allows them to keep their titles. Neither of these suits a man in your position, Ulfric." He had initially been for the Stormcloak rebellion, when he had heard it starting up from Skyrim, but here Ulfric lied, in disgrace. He turned to Ulfric, "Tell me, how does a man with the power of the Voice manage to get captured in such a sorry state? Did they make you eat mud first?" Ralof spit on Bjorn and he grinned, "Tell me Stormcloak." He said, turning back to Ralof, "How does it feel to know that one of your last sights will be your king on the chopping block, just before the imperials take your own head?" He asked.
Ralof gritted his teeth but turned his eyes downward, unable to respond.
"I thought as much. The rebellion has failed, and once the imperials realize their mistake and let me go, the first thing I will do is drink a toast on the victory of the Empire, the true strength in Skyrim." He said bitterly. He had returned to join the Companions as he didn't want to get in the politics of it, but he did worship Talos. Their movement dying did hurt him a little, and he felt more betrayed than anything, "Perhaps you should have put more faith in Julianos than Talos." He said grimly, "Maybe his wisdom would have helped you." He added.
They approached Helgen and the thief began babbling half heartedly to the divines. Bjorn picked up his foot and smashed it into the man's knee. He screamed in pain, the Ebony-plated armor boot crushing his knee, "Don't bother the Gods with your insincere caterwauling." Bjorn said, resisting the temptation to grind his heel into the man's now shattered kneecap.
They had arrived, stopping, the thief snivelling in pain, a glare of betrayal in his eyes. Bjorn didn't understand the man's feelings, the man was a thief, Bjorn was just a man crossing the border. Thieves are criminals like any other, and the snivelling thief wouldn't survive prison and likely couldn't afford the fine.
They were ordered to step off the carriage, "He broke my leg!" The sniveling thief said.
"We're here to be executed, thief, it won't pain you long." Ralof said, "Just think comforting thoughts of home." Ralof shoved him with his foot and the thief fell, planting his face in the mud.
The thief stood shakily, limping away from the carriage and shooting dirty looks back at the two men. Ralof smiled at Bjorn and Bjorn smiled back. They hopped off to follow the thief and got to their names, their names were read off and they took their place, waiting for the axe, the thief tried to run, but made it but two steps before he tripped and couldn't get up. The captain dispatched him with a sword.
Hadvar looked to Bjorn, "Who are you?" He asked.
"Finally." Bjorn said, "I am Bjorn, I was crossing the border when the rebels got ambushed. I'm not one of them, and I'm no criminal."
Hadvar nodded, understandingly, "Captain, he's not on the list, what should we do?" He asked.
"Forget the list! He goes to the block too!" She shouted, almost with a satisfied smile. Bjorn's eyes went wide and he suddenly saw what this was, why he had been caught with the stormcloaks in the first place. This captain was directing it, and she wanted blood.
Hadvar visibly winced at the captain's words, "By your orders captain." He looked to Bjorn, sadness in his eyes, "I'm sorry, I'll try to find your family and return your remains to them."
"My mother was a whore in Whiterun. She died a few years ago, there was no one else... See if the companions will take my corpse. That's where I was going anyways." He was still going there, and he was going to use the Stormcloak's execution to do it.
He walked over to his spot and the Priestess of Arkay started giving them their last rites.
"For the love of Talos, let's just get this over with!" An impatient stormcloak interrupted.
"As you wish." The priest of Arkay said with a sneer, walking off.
The stormcloak took his place on the block, "My ancestors are smiling on me, imperials, can you say the same?" he said before the axeman took his head.
There was a roar as the axe fell, and everyone looked around worried.
"Next! Ulfric!" She said with a grin, "Your rebellion ends with you, and your soldiers will watch as we make that so."
A dragon landed on the Tower and Bjorn's plans changed, he wasn't going to die, and he didn't need the Storm cloaks to escape.
It was suddenly clear what was happening. He was considered to be an unknown stormcloak, to be a prisoner of war with the others. This matter would be sorted out soon enough.
"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." Ralof said, motioning to the thief.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine till you came along, Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." The thief looked to Bjorn, "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, Thief." Ralof replied.
"Shut up back there." The soldier driving their wagon said.
"What's wrong with him?" The thief said, motioning to Ulfric.
"Watch your tongue!" Ralof yelled, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim!"
Bjorn laughed at this, "True high king?" He said, chuckling more, "No, no true king can be subjugated and put into binds. King has always meant one thing, the man with the best army. An Emperor is a man who takes kings under his hold and allows them to keep their titles. Neither of these suits a man in your position, Ulfric." He had initially been for the Stormcloak rebellion, when he had heard it starting up from Skyrim, but here Ulfric lied, in disgrace. He turned to Ulfric, "Tell me, how does a man with the power of the Voice manage to get captured in such a sorry state? Did they make you eat mud first?" Ralof spit on Bjorn and he grinned, "Tell me Stormcloak." He said, turning back to Ralof, "How does it feel to know that one of your last sights will be your king on the chopping block, just before the imperials take your own head?" He asked.
Ralof gritted his teeth but turned his eyes downward, unable to respond.
"I thought as much. The rebellion has failed, and once the imperials realize their mistake and let me go, the first thing I will do is drink a toast on the victory of the Empire, the true strength in Skyrim." He said bitterly. He had returned to join the Companions as he didn't want to get in the politics of it, but he did worship Talos. Their movement dying did hurt him a little, and he felt more betrayed than anything, "Perhaps you should have put more faith in Julianos than Talos." He said grimly, "Maybe his wisdom would have helped you." He added.
They approached Helgen and the thief began babbling half heartedly to the divines. Bjorn picked up his foot and smashed it into the man's knee. He screamed in pain, the Ebony-plated armor boot crushing his knee, "Don't bother the Gods with your insincere caterwauling." Bjorn said, resisting the temptation to grind his heel into the man's now shattered kneecap.
They had arrived, stopping, the thief snivelling in pain, a glare of betrayal in his eyes. Bjorn didn't understand the man's feelings, the man was a thief, Bjorn was just a man crossing the border. Thieves are criminals like any other, and the snivelling thief wouldn't survive prison and likely couldn't afford the fine.
They were ordered to step off the carriage, "He broke my leg!" The sniveling thief said.
"We're here to be executed, thief, it won't pain you long." Ralof said, "Just think comforting thoughts of home." Ralof shoved him with his foot and the thief fell, planting his face in the mud.
The thief stood shakily, limping away from the carriage and shooting dirty looks back at the two men. Ralof smiled at Bjorn and Bjorn smiled back. They hopped off to follow the thief and got to their names, their names were read off and they took their place, waiting for the axe, the thief tried to run, but made it but two steps before he tripped and couldn't get up. The captain dispatched him with a sword.
Hadvar looked to Bjorn, "Who are you?" He asked.
"Finally." Bjorn said, "I am Bjorn, I was crossing the border when the rebels got ambushed. I'm not one of them, and I'm no criminal."
Hadvar nodded, understandingly, "Captain, he's not on the list, what should we do?" He asked.
"Forget the list! He goes to the block too!" She shouted, almost with a satisfied smile. Bjorn's eyes went wide and he suddenly saw what this was, why he had been caught with the stormcloaks in the first place. This captain was directing it, and she wanted blood.
Hadvar visibly winced at the captain's words, "By your orders captain." He looked to Bjorn, sadness in his eyes, "I'm sorry, I'll try to find your family and return your remains to them."
"My mother was a whore in Whiterun. She died a few years ago, there was no one else... See if the companions will take my corpse. That's where I was going anyways." He was still going there, and he was going to use the Stormcloak's execution to do it.
He walked over to his spot and the Priestess of Arkay started giving them their last rites.
"For the love of Talos, let's just get this over with!" An impatient stormcloak interrupted.
"As you wish." The priest of Arkay said with a sneer, walking off.
The stormcloak took his place on the block, "My ancestors are smiling on me, imperials, can you say the same?" he said before the axeman took his head.
There was a roar as the axe fell, and everyone looked around worried.
"Next! Ulfric!" She said with a grin, "Your rebellion ends with you, and your soldiers will watch as we make that so."
A dragon landed on the Tower and Bjorn's plans changed, he wasn't going to die, and he didn't need the Storm cloaks to escape.
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