3 Chapter III

Level 1

Health: 95

Magicka: 105

Stamina: 100

I excitedly add any other items I could fit under the weight limit to my inventory but am unfortunately reminded of the potential blood bath next to me; Hadvar and Ralof are still arguing after all that time I spent learning about my abilities.

Hadvar: Everything was starting to be peaceful finally, but then all you Stormcloaks had to do was muck it all up!

Ralof: Like we would ever subject ourselves to the tyranny of the Thalmor! Just cause you like it up the ass from them doesn't mean our freedom should be taken!!

Alright, I've had enough of this. I grab a sword near me and throw it between Ralof and Hadvar, who stop their argument, turning their heads to me almost in perfect unison.

Alexander: Listen up, you two. Take it from someone not even from your damn country; I could care less about the Concordat, the Talos, or even the Thalmor. Right now, we have a damn flying fire-breathing death machine outside ready to tear our bones to oblivion, and this building with it! Unless you want to wait here and die because you are all too stubborn, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND FOLLOW ME DOWN TO THE KEEP!!!

The two stare at me and pause. Shit, did I screw up? Was it cause I mentioned Talos? Am I going to have to kill them if they turn hostile??

A ring can be heard, and my speech leveled up to 23. Hadvar and Ralof take deep breaths after looking at each other and shake hands. Then they walk up to me.

Ralof: Fine, we'll swallow our pride for now.

Hadvar: You've saved us, so we'll trust you, friend.

I smile at both of them, pat their shoulders, and then walk up to the chain to open the doorway.

Alexander: Good. Right now, we need to find another way out of the keep. We'll need to be careful from here. So grab any swords or weapons, and let's get moving. Hadvar, you will cover these guys at the back while Ralof and I lead the pack. They both nod and get themselves in position, but before we move, Lokir taps my shoulder.

Lokir: What can I do? I want to help if I can.

Right...I keep forgetting he's here. I'm so used to him dying. I don't know what to do, Lokir wasn't really meant to be alive so I don't know what he's good at. I grab the extra imperial armor I carried and give it to him, along with an extra sword.

Alexander: wear these for now since you'll need the protection, and help Vilfrid carry Torolf.

Lokir nods, and we all go through the keep. Upon entering a large room, we are met with two extra Stormcloak soldiers who, thankfully, weren't immediately hostile because Ralof was here with us, albeit they were on edge with Hadvar.

Alexander: We don't need to fight. For now, let's forget about what sides we're on and survive.

They both nod and put their weapons down. Before leaving, I spot the corpse of a Stormcloak soldier. Ralof kneels to him and looks over the body sorrowful.

Ralof: Safe trip to Sovngarde Gunjar.

I take a close look at Gunjar and notice the weapons he has on him, which look a little strange to me.

Alexander: Ralof, do you mind if I take his weapons off him? No disrespect, but it'll prove more beneficial to us in the long run.

Ralof nods and backs away. Before taking his weapon, I look at the corpse. Even before all this happened, this was the first time I'd ever seen a dead body, and living in a world like this, I'd have to kill people, too. Otherwise, I'll end up like this guy. I place my hand on the corpse's shoulder and close my eyes.

Alexander: I'm sorry this happened to you. May you rest in Sovngarde.

Hadvar, Ralof, and even Vilfrid look at me in slight surprise.

Hadvar: That caught me off guard. Most people don't take the time to show respect to a corpse, especially one they don't know.

Alexander: I usually don't. With everything going on, it felt right to show my respect.

Hadvar and Ralof turn to look at each other and then back at me with a slight smile. Thankfully, it looks like I got their favor from that.

Ralof: Breton or Orc, it matters not. The fact that you show such respect to a Nord who has died in battle, that means something to us.

I chuckle in response before examining the body of Gunjar.

Alexander: I appreciate that.

I grabbed the weapons off Gunjar and examined them closely. I was right; these aren't standard iron or steel weapons.

I pull the weapons out, and they are revealed to be two one-handed axes and a two-handed axe with the Stormcloak crest on them. The axes are designed with the beast from the emblem molded in a way with the blade in its mouth.

The designs were different, but it's unmistakable: these were Stormcloak hero weapons. They were much stronger than any other weapons you can get in the vanilla game this early on, even better than Glass. The steel plate armor and now these Stormcloak hero weapons? Yeah, this is also a mod, Skyrim Special Edition Tweaks, made by Stealthg14.

Alexander: Damn, how many mods are added in this world?

The others looked at me in confusion; I didn't realize I said that out loud. I pretend to cough and then go to the next room, before gesturing to the other Stormcloak soldiers to follow me. Everything from there was pretty simple, and we went through the keep with no difficulty since Ralof and other Stormcloaks accompanied the party until we reached the torture room.

Thankfully, I was able to convince the Stormcloaks to resist any urges to murder the slimy bastard of a torturer before taking some lock picks, the spell tome for Sparks, and the enchanted clothing from the dead mage.

Before we leave, I look at the torturer and his assistant, then at Hadvar, who appears frustrated after talking with them. Those idiots decide to stay here, while I don't condone with torture, against better judgement I'd rather not leave them here to die, then I glance to a corner and smirk and whisper to Hadvar.

Alexander: Hey, messing with that jackass wouldn't be a problem, would it?

Hadvar: I can't condone killing allies from the army I serve, Alexander.

Alexander: Not kill...just screw with him?

I point to some rope, and Hadvar glances in the direction where my finger leads. A small but cheeky smile forms around Hadvar's face before he says:

Hadvar: Well, maybe just a little.

I then turn back around excitedly to the torturer with Ralof and a couple of Stormcloaks beside me; the torturer looks at me with a mix of nervousness and impatience as we approach.

Torturer: What do you idiots want? I thought you were going to leave!

Alexander: We were but we can't possibly leave an old man alone in a dangerous place. Don't worry, you won't have to move around too much.

Ralof pulls out some rope with a gleam in his eye as he walks slowly to the torturer who expresses a look of confusion and then fear.

Torturer: S-stay back! Hadvar, what're you doing just standing there?!

Hadvar is seen in the corner looking smug.

Hadvar: You have no authority over me.

Ralof then proceeds to tie the Torturer up tightly, bounding his hands, legs, and mouth. This takes a while, so while he goes on to do this, I attempt to unlock the other cages to level up my lock picking to 21.

Ralof: I would've instead killed him, but that was also pretty fun.

I mean, he wasn't wrong it was hilarious, but Ralof looked a little too into it, hope I didn't just help him awaken something.

Ralof:(I pray to Talos I find a lass who'll like getting herself tied up in rope.)

I turn to the assistant and hand him his boss.

Alexander: You wanted to keep the old man safe; now you can do it while walking.

The Assistant chuckles nervously and places the struggling Torturer on his back before walking with the group. We continue forward, picking up some imperial soldiers on the way since Hadvar was here to get them off our backs. By the time we reached the damned frostbite spiders and the bear, everything went well. I didn't even have to fight. By that time, we all made it out safe and sound from the caverns, not before hiding from Alduin as he flew past us.

Hadvar and Ralof briefly talk with their respective allies before the groups walk off. Hadvar and Ralof then turn to me.

Hadvar: We decided to head over to Riverwood, since there's a dragon we'll need to warn them.

Ralof: It would mean a lot if you would accompany us.

Alexander: You don't want to go with your groups?

Ralof: We'd want to but we have family at Riverwood, it wouldn't be right to just leave without keeping them safe.

I nod in agreement.

Alexander: I'm okay with that. I had plans for Riverwood anyway, but are they coming with us?

I point to Torolf, Haming, Vilfrid, Lokir, and Gunnar, who all stand idle and awkwardly by as we speak.

Hadvar: The rest, I get. They have no place left to go, so going to the nearby village would be helpful enough for them to settle. But I don't get why you're here, Vilfrid.

Vilfrid: Alexander saved my life! If not for him, I'd be a roasted Nord! So, I want to help him enough to pay my debt.

I smirk and cross my arms.

Alexander: Well, no matter that, then. Let's hurry to the town.

We all walk together and soon reach the Guardian Stones. At this point, Hadvar and Ralof explain what they do, though I'm well aware of their abilities.

Each stone increases a set of skills' growth rate by 20%, so long as the skills match the stones' categories: Warrior, Wizard, and Thief.

Part of me wants to pick the thief immediately, but I'll have to save that one for later. I walk up to the warrior stone and place my hand. It was the strangest experience. I could feel something rush through to my hand and spread itself throughout my body, and soon enough, my body felt more vital and energized. I don't know if it's different, but the warrior stone blessing me felt like an adrenaline shot.

We finally reach Riverwood, where we gather at the inn at Hadvar's request. There, he and Ralof bring Gerdur and Alvor. When they arrive, we all sit down at a large table.

Alvor: What's this about boys? Why have you brought us here? And who are all these people?

Hadvar: They're the survivors of Helgen, Uncle Alvor. If not for our friend, Alexander, we'd have been dead from a dragon.

Alvor and Gerdur both look shocked.

Gerdur: A dragon? That shouldn't be possible, but if that's true, then Riverwood is in danger! We need to notify the Jarl at once!

Alexander: That won't be necessary.

The group looks at me in shock. I wasn't expecting so many eyes on me, so I'll admit I was a little nervous, but I kept my composure.

Alexander: That dragon could've destroyed Riverwood long after finishing off Helgen. It flew past us not long after we came out of the caverns, remember? So why hasn't it started to destroy Riverwood yet? It's not nearly as big as Helgen, and with all the trees to burn around the village, indeed, the dragon would view it as easy pickings. It's possible that the dragon won't attack just yet, if not at all.

The group looks at each other and talks amongst one another. Then Ralof speaks up.

Ralof: I hate to admit it, but he's got a point. If the dragon wanted to, Riverwood would've been destroyed by now.

Hadvar: Even so, we still need to warn the Jarl.

Alexander: Of course. We can still attempt to call for the Jarl's help. Just not at the moment; we've only just gotten out of Helgen. We should rest before anything else, at least for today.

Hadvar scratches his head.

Hadvar: And the next?

I smirked at Ralof as I grabbed a bottle of mead nearby.

Alexander: That's when my plan comes into motion.

The other looks at me with raised eyebrows before Lokir speaks up.

Lokir: What sort of plan?

I sit back down and open the bottle, emptying some into a cup.

Alexander: See, I came to Skyrim for a reason. Before arriving here as a prisoner, I was a researcher and historian of everything related to Tamriel and even Nirn.

Ok, so this is the part where I'm going to bend the truth so much that it'll be as twisted as a damn pretzel. But I read a lot about the lore for Elder Scrolls, so...technically, it's not a lie.

Alexander: One day, I arrive at some ancient ruins that tell of a legend—one that foresees war and even the return of a dragon. I traveled to Skyrim because the origins of this legend were to be here, hoping to study it further and perhaps even publish my research.

Translation for this utter bull: I was trying to write fan fiction that was accurate enough so Bethesda could reach out and partner with me.

Alexander: That is until I came through the ambush and was captured.

Hadvar looks away in embarrassment and clears his throat.

Hadvar: I am sorry for that.

Alexander: Haha, it's fine, Hadvar. I hold no grudges, especially since my research is now worth it!

I slam the table excitedly, causing everyone to back an inch away in shock and even attracting some attention from patrons. I clear my throat and take a breath, trying to calm myself. If I reveal my plans too loudly, Delphine might overhear and act out.

Alexander: Now that I know the prophecy is accurate and will happen, I have no time to waste to ensure that I can make preparations. And I can use your help for it, Hadvar, Ralof, and even you, Vilfrid.

They all look concerned but remain quiet to hear me out.

Alexander: Let's cut a deal, you three. First, let me ask you this: Do you want this civil war to end, yes?

Hadvar: What kind of question is that?

Ralof: Of course we do!

Alexander: The problem with this war, however, is that one side has to lose, and after The Great War, regardless of who wins, the Thalmor would still need to be worried about. And indeed, now we have dragons back after all these years. If this war continues, then Skyrim and soon all of Tamriel will be at the mercy of the dragons, not of the Thalmor.

Hadvar and Ralof both raise their eyebrows and look at me with confusion.

Hadvar: Where're you going with this, Alexander?

Alexander: Bear with me here. I know you all have your pride, honor, and loyalty. But what if I told you there's a third option to this war? One where both sides won't have to worry about winning or losing? Where can peace be made under the guise of a mighty warrior and leader?

I point to Hadvar.

Alexander: A warrior that even the empire will accept to lead and govern Skyrim.

I point to Ralof.

Alexander: A proud leader that even someone like Ulfric will accept in the role of power.

Everyone appears intrigued by what I'm saying, and Alvor speaks up.

Alvor: Just who is this person you even speak of? Surely someone of such importance should've been heard of!

I put my hand up to Alvor.

Alexander: Quiet, Alvor, there are eyes and ears everywhere. I can't just share this information. You're right; this warrior has never been heard of, at least not by name. Because as of this moment, they do not know what they are and what their future will lead to. So, I cannot say anything for the sake of their protection. But I can say this: if we want the future of Tamriel to be saved, I need to prepare a way for this person to rise to power immediately. I need connections, money, and reputation to ensure they will be correctly trained.

Ralof: Wait just a second now! You tell us all of this, but it all just sounds like some shady deal a damned shopkeeper would use! How do you expect us to trust you in your word when you won't even tell us this warrior's name?

Hadvar places his hand on Ralof's shoulder and settles him down. Then looks to me.

Hadvar: He's right you know. You can at least tell us who this warrior is. You said they're not known by their name. But that implies that people would know them another way. I assume you refer to a title or an alias, right?

I smile at Hadvar; this is why this man's a legend!

Alexander: Yes, my friend, you are right. However, if I tell you this, you'll think me a bigger madman if not for the Dragon's appearance. I ask you this: With a dragon appearing for the first time in hundreds of years, what could to kill this dragon? A legend that can win the favor of Nords, a leader who governed the empire itself. Does someone like that sound familiar?

Everyone scratches their heads, trying to think. Each takes a minute or more to figure out an answer, even looking at the bottom of their mugs as if they think the answer is in there. Then Vilfrid loudly gasps with a look of shock before covering his mouth to avoid attention from people outside the table. Vilfrid then takes a swig of his drink and loudly gulps before looking at me nervously.

Vilfrid: A-Alexander, surely you don't mean...T-t-t-he D—d-drag-g

Vilfrid couldn't finish his sentence through his stuttering. But everyone could connect the dots immediately. Looking back to me, who sits up proudly with the most shit-eating grin I could ever make with my arms crossed.

Hadvar: The only being capable of killing a dragon...

Ralof:...Able to absorb their power and speak their tongue...

Gerdur: But that's impossible, you can't possibly mean-

Alexander: I do.

Everyone stares at me with their mouths gaping wide.

Alexander: That's right. The very same warrior that the line of emperors once had within their blood—the very warrior who stopped the Oblivion Crisis itself—the one who can stop this newly formed Dragon crisis. In their tongue, he is Dovahkiin, but in ours, he is Dragonborn!