I also forgot to mention in my character's introductory chapter before this, that I'm also using inspiration from the "mods" used by Xbox ONE players, but only a few of those, because they're necessary to describe the story. Since I posted a disclaimer in the prologue, I refer to that.
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Tirdas, 1:34 pm
7th of Morning Star, year 201, 4th Era
The road I was taking led from Cyrodiil into Skyrim. As I approached the border gate the guard there gave an order.
"Halt!" He had a rolled up paper and quill. And a sword at his waist. Two other archers, a bosmer, and a nord, in the covered walkway above "Didn't someone in Bruma warn you, Skyrim is involved in a civil war?"
"No," I replied "what's going on?"
"I see," the orc in red imperial armor commented gruffly "well, it is. Some of these nords" he turned to his nord friend above, "no o'fence, Odafrek!"
"None taken." He replied down.
"They got rather irritated with how the White-Gold Concordat said Talos can't be worshipped anymore, and overall, there's a big mess of it. Can't say I blame them, but I'm sure as Oblivion not gunna throw in with them blue-clad Stormcloaks neether. Simply put, you see fighting, you think carefully about who ya' help. Also watch out for some 'soldiers,' if they're not wearing a full uniform, or its mismatched. A merchant complained to one of us that a group on 'patrol' said he was 'interferin,' that they needed him to pay a 'fine.' No real soldier'll do that. Now," he took his quill and paper in hand, "we haf-ta write down everyone who's entering or leaving Skyrim, and where ya' wanna go. Them officers don't tell us why, 'cept that we gotta do it."
"My name's Scarlet-Scale, I'm not interested in politics right now. I didn't expect this, thought I'd just figure out where to go after my entry here."
"Right," the orc grunted "sounds like you'll probably wanna pass thru a bit o' Falkreath Hold to Whiterun. Somehow Jarl Balgruuf managed to not piss on anyone's boots yet, ya can find out more there, and Riverwood's on the way too. So, I'm markin' you down," even if his way of speech was sloppy, the handwriting was decently legible "this here's your entry slip, do NOT lose it, if one of our soldiers finds you don't have it, he may think yur a spy, and subject to bein' put in irons. Welcome to Skyrim, Scarlet."
One of the other soldiers in the elevated cover of the wall pulled on a wheel, and the doors swung wide open. I pulled out the rolled up leather map that I bought back in the Imperial Capital City and asked the soldier how the factions divided the area. He pointed out the cities of Solitude and Windhelm.
"Solitude's our headquarters. Them rebels're comin' outta Windhelm. Now, go git a move on to Whiterun, we got orders ta' keep these gates closed at all times 'cept to legimit travelers. Openin' to none but fellow soldiers after dark."
I believed he meant "legitimate," but it was also clear that the orc meant what he said about keeping the gate closed. After they closed them behind me, I walked on down the road. Then I noticed another group coming down from another fork. It was more of the red-clad Imperial soldiers escorting two wagons of prisoners, though some were on foot. But almost all were nords, wearing the same blue uniform. Except for one, but he was in one of the wagons, clearly also a prisoner.
The guards who saw me brandished their weapons, and I held my hands up, backing off. They sheathed, but still kept a watchful eye on me. I was going to wait for them to just pass me by, but then someone came galloping up fast on a horse. The Imperials pulled out a thick, strong rope, and came around the rider with it as he shouted, trying to back out. A soldier quickly grabbed him off the horse, I couldn't see what they did to him, but that was then made obvious. I saw him next hauled up on the back of a wagon.
I guessed that as the rider didn't try slowing down enough for the soldiers, they decided to arrest him and then see to him later. If he did turn out to be a simple traveler, then probably released. But the horse they tied to the saddle of the officer leading, the rider's horse had no saddle, just a bit, and reins, so I took another guess that the horse was stolen.
I took out my map, it looked like the road we were all on seemed to lead to a town called Helgen. I assumed that's also where the Imperials were heading, but the watchful soldiers clearly showed that my questions would not be welcome. I waited, and then only after the whole group had passed by for longer than 20 minutes, did I actually start moving again. As I got to Helgen, there was a nord woman coming out of the forest with a basket filled with mushrooms.
"Excuse me," I said "but do you know what that group of soldiers I saw earlier was all about? Who were the prisoners? It seemed too small a group of prisoners for a serious battle to have taken place, but too large for light skirmish."
"Oh," the woman replied "you must be a new visitor to Skyrim, or you would have recognized Ulfric Stormcloak's men."
"Ulfric?" I had caught on her use of "Stormcloak," the border guard had suggested that was the name of the other faction.
"You say his name like you don't know of him." She had turned to me. "You surely are new to Skyrim then. He leads the rebellion here. Or rather he did, if the Imperials have caught him, then I expect the civil war is going to be over soon. Rumors back in Helgen, say that he's going to be executed right there."
"Really?" We started walking again. "This is pretty serious then?"
"Yes," she agreed, "but while us nords like to waggle our tongues, we try not to trust rumors much."
We were quiet while I tried thinking about this. I still had to figure out what these "great events" were that I was somehow going to be involved in. Soon enough, we both reached the locked gate of Helgen.
"Who's that?" The large oak of a nord in studded Imperial armor on the wall called down.
"Just some traveler I met on the road." the woman beside me answered. "She seems to have come through at around the same time as the soldiers, but she also seemed to have not heard of the civil war. She hasn't mentioned her name yet."
"Scarlet-Scale." I added, glad for my introduction.
"Alright," the nord said, "you can go on through with Matlara there. But General Tullius personally gave us all orders that no one but the town citizens can enter or leave until after they're done with the prisoners."
This probably prompted Matlara's next question, as the gates were opened.
"They're going to execute Ulfric here then?"
"Yep, the headsman's arrived already, I just didn't see him until you went looking for those mushrooms."
"Thanks, Hakoth."
"You're welcome."
We walked up. The Imperials already had the prisoners form into lines next to the wagons. Another stout nord in studded Imperial armor was reading from a list.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The one who was gagged for some reason, and not dressed in the blue uniforms of the others, but in fancier clothes stepped up. Another nord who had been standing next to him called out behind him from the group.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric..."
The nord holding the list called another.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
The earlier nord who proclaimed his proud loyalty took his next place in the group on their left. The nord with the list called again.
"Lokir, of Rorikstead."
A thin, frightened nord, he looked like the one I assumed earlier as a horsethief, he desperately cried out.
"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!"
Not waiting, for anyone's reaction to this, he dashed off for the building next to the gate.
