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The Tempest Tales: Legends of Skyrim (Chapter 4)

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When I was a young hatchling I remember perceiving the world in such an optimistic manner, my naïve little mind bursting with so many questions about what lay beyond the borders of Black Marsh. Every time I opened my mouth a new question would form on the tip of my tongue, much to the exasperation of my parents. It wasn’t until I was exposed to the vast realm of Tamriel that I began to peel away at its grim reality, delving deeper into a world that both horrified and engulfed me in a new sense of wonder and intrigue. Maybe if I had not allowed my curiosity to dominate me in such a ruthless manner then I’d still be in the murky depths of the Black Marsh. But for now, that tale would have to wait. I had bigger problems on my mind. Who knew how the humans before me would act, their eyes glaring towards me with a look of searing hatred after being imprisoned but their brethren.
“He ain’t one of us!” one of them gasped with such “cunning” observation. To be honest I was surprised that he had managed to hold his sword the right way. Before any of the others could react, a female Nord separated herself from the crowd as she advanced towards me.
“I apologise for the blunt reception of my fellow Stormcloaks,” she calmly admitted, unsheathing a rustic dagger from her belt “but as you may have noticed things haven’t exactly been going our way.
With one swift swipe my hands burst free from my bonds, reactively rubbing my wrists with an audible groan.
“There should be some armour in that chest over there,” the female spoke in a firm manner, her eyes watching over me with a definite air of suspicion. It wasn’t long before I found myself wearing a rather ill-fitting set of Imperial armour, emphasised further by a leather helmet that slumped over my eyes. Despite looking like a child trying on his father’s armour for the first time I was glad to have some kind of protection over my scaly hide. Maybe now these soldiers would be less reluctant to stab me in the back ... maybe.
“And what do we do with this one?!” A coarse growl caught my attention almost immediately, turning towards a rather pitiful looking fellow with thin strands of hair draping over his face contorted into a permanent expression of hysteria. In his hand rested another rustic blade, quivering in his grasp as he held it close to the Imperial Soldier’s throat. Even in the face of death, their captive refused to give them the satisfaction of claiming their prize hostage.
“Ain’t that ‘advar? The one Ralof kept going on about?” another mused to herself, a sinister smile slowly slithering across her mouth “The one who has the relative in Riverwood? It must be a shame to think that you’ll never see them again. But don’t you worry dear, we’ll make sure they know what happened.”
It was at that moment I realised how easily the imperial could be antagonised, his cries of fury echoing throughout the keep as he attempted to charge towards them. Unfortunately, willing or not, the bound soldier was quickly hurled onto the ground landing with a dull thud. Meanwhile, the pitiful looking man from before sniggered with such arrogance that it turned my stomach. It only made things that much harder for me to watch on as he struck him with the sole of his boot.
“That’s enough!” their leader snapped, reluctant to break up the one sided scuffle before turning to me “You there! Come here lizard!”
It did not seem like I had any choice in the matter as I advanced towards her, carefully observing how the others would react. Besides, who was I to argue with a pissed off Nord with a loyal legion by her side and a sword in her hands? However, it was what she said next that surprised even her fellow companions.
“I want you to take care of our hostage here is that understood?”
The sound of disapproval lingered in the air as they clucked their tongues with such distain.
“The lizard? Ania, you can’t possibly-”
“Remember what happened to the other Imperial Soldier you got your hands on?” the Nordic woman known as Ania sighed in exasperation “Poor bastard probably will never see the light of day again. Now let’s move it!”
There were no warm farewells to be had in the depths of the old keep as many of the Stormcloak soldiers poured through the stone arch leaving me behind to carry the prisoner. At first he was reluctant, squirming weakly in my grasp as I pulled him along the ground. It wasn’t until his gaze met mine that he started to relent.
“You...”
“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” I tried to reassure him, before muttering “at least as safe as we’ll ever be with those damn Nords running around.”
The Imperial soldier allowed a hearty laugh to escape his lips before wincing in agony, silencing his only source of joy in the situation.
“I never thought you were like one of the others,” he continued to mutter softly out of the earshot of the Stormcloaks, gazing towards them warily before turning back to me “even when I tried to find your name on that parchment I did not expect for one moment you were one of them. I’m curious though, what brought you here?”
For a moment I shrugged calmly, contemplating as to what I had done to incur the wrath of the divines. I had been used to a life of chance when I was younger, willingly embracing the prospect of the unknown feeling like I was invincible. How foolish I was back then and here I was now, submerged in a situation that was far beyond anything that I had experienced.  
“Halt!” the Stormcloak leader hissed, forcing her pitiful gang of subordinates to stumble to a standstill. At first the air was silent, engulfed in a veil of tranquillity that seemed to last for an eternity and yet, I could not help but feel unnerved. At least the sound of the dragon’s roar brought me some comfort in the fact that I knew where he was. The worst kind of enemy lurked in the shadows, silently observing his prey with malicious intent. By the time you knew what was happening you would be lying in a pool of your own blood, condemned to rot into the ground with a permanent look of terror plastered across your face. Fortunately, if you could call it that, the sound of silence was broken by the sound of footsteps thundering towards our position with the fury of a thousand barbarians, assuming the form of several Imperial Soldiers.
“There they are!” they cried in triumph, separated only by a narrow stone corridor. Even in my Imperial attire I would doubt that they would spare my life, shown clearly as a steel arrow barely missed my head; burying itself into the back of an unfortunate Nord merely inches away. This seemed to encourage another to foolishly charge at their enemy with a victorious growl, which was until he was baptised in a shower of steel arrows. It seemed like our only salvation lay ahead in the form of a wooden door, forcing even the battle hardened Nordic Stormcloaks to flee towards it as fast as their legs would carry them. The ground shuddered violently as they raced towards the door, their hands scrambling to find the handle.
“It won’t budge!” a Stormcloak soldier wailed in terror, pounding it with every ounce of strength he possessed. Alas, it seemed as if his efforts proved to be ineffective as the wooden door denied his pleas to pass. Sharing the same sentiment as the others I was quick to weave through the soldiers, snatching one of the rustic daggers that had been reduced to nothing more than a cluster of metallic shards on a wooden handle.
“You need to hold them off,” I instructed the hysterical soldiers, my attention focused upon picking the lock of the door “I may be able to pick the lock but I need time!”
For a brief moment the Nordic group seemed awestruck, turning towards their leader for guidance who seemed reluctant to accept orders from a fellow prisoner.
“You heard the Argonian,” I could hear her mutter angrily, thankful that she at least did not refer to me as a “lizard” “for Skyrim!”
I could not help but admire the sheer conviction of the Nords, their passion for battle shining through as they cut down their foes in quick succession. My hands trembled as I tried to hastily unlock the door, flinching every time I heard the wail of a soldier, regardless of allegiance, cut down brutally at the hands of a steel blade. Fortunately it did not take long for the door to relent to my makeshift lock pick, pushing the wooden door to the side as I dragged a barely conscious Hadvar into the room. I knew it would be easy for me to shut the door behind on them, leaving them in the hands of the Imperial Soldiers where they belonged. My hand rested upon the iron handle, ready to seal their fate. But I was not like them – I was no monster.
“Get inside!” I cried as loud as my lungs would permit me to, grabbing the attention of a handful of Stormcloaks not engulfed in battle. It wasn’t long before they tossed their weapons aside, once again hurling themselves towards the open doorway as the Imperial Soldiers followed close behind. Even though there were many more caught in the midst of battle I was forced to slam the door, my eyes engulfed in a watery haze.
“I’m so sorry...” I muttered solemnly, standing aside as the remaining survivors began barricading the doors with everything they could get their blood stained hands on. It wasn’t long before the door was swallowed up in a pile of barrels and rustic scrap, permanently sealing off the doorway.
“Yer boys almost got us killed,” the greasy haired man who I had the misfortune of meeting today snarled towards Hadvar, unsheathing a concealed dagger “I think its time you paid the price for it...”
Their captive could only watch on helplessly as the knife descended through the air, much to the shock and horror of his companions. To this day I still do not understand why I reacted the way I did. Perhaps it was a minor annoyance such as the offensive body odour emitting from the man’s pores, or the way he failed to speak in a coherent manner. Whatever the case, something inside of me had snapped. The ever-growing burden of the events that had transpired had left nothing more than a sorrowful trail of nightmarish memories, each one as bad as the last. Before the dagger could make contact I swiftly pounced upon the Nord who released a surprised yelp as he crumpled onto the ground, my claw like hands tightly wrapped around his neck.
“I could snap your neck right now you know that?” I hissed with searing hatred towards him, tightening my grip ever so slightly with every word that escaped my mouth “I have lost everything today because of you Stormcloaks. No matter how many times I think things are going to change I always run into people like you, craving the blood of your enemies while robbing people of their lives. What’s the harm in one more drop?”
“Let him go.”
The words were spoken in a rather firm yet wavering tone, accompanied by the distinct sound of iron being unsheathed from its bindings. My gaze soon fell upon the leader of the group, pointing the weapon towards me with cautious observation.
“What are ye waiting for?!” I could hear the Stormcloak gasp, his cries coming out as pained wheezes “Kill the bloody lizard!”
As she advanced towards me, I couldn’t help but feel certain that she was going to strike me down right there. My eyes had become consumed in a watery haze, unable to supress my sorrow for much longer. It wasn’t until I felt a warm hand curl around my own in a comforting embrace, instinctively releasing the Nord from my grasp.  
“You’re right Argonian, this isn’t the way things should be. Sometimes we are forced to follow paths that we are reluctant to travel.”
The Stormcloak beneath me swiftly scramble away at this opportunity, gulping the air hungrily like a fish. However, my attention was still focused upon Ania who still clung to my hand.
“Why are you doing this?” I muttered hoarsely, my gaze fixed on her like a curious toddler.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you saved our lives back there, as little of us as there are left,” she admitted with a solemn smile “besides, we’re going to need all of the help we need if we’re going to make it out of here alive.”
She began to reach into the tattered pockets of her apparel, retrieving a small vial of a murky pink substance which she then placed into my hands. I could not help but mouth a brief thanks for her compassion amongst those who had abandoned it long ago.
“It’s not much but it should help our friend over there,” she motioned towards Hadvar before rolling her eyes into the heavens “Talos forbid we run into any more problems. Now then let’s try and find a way out of here.”
As I administered the healing potion to the injured Imperial Soldier, I could not help but feel the eyes of the others burn into me with a look of fear and distrust. After all who could blame them? I did just nearly rip out one of their fellow Stormcloak’s throat out. Despite this sudden outburst, Ania seemed to be more complacent than then others as she observed the large amount of rock blocking the way out.
“There’s too much debris in the way,” she once again sighed in exasperation, her attention falling upon the darkened crater on the ground which she proceeded to walk towards “looks like our best bet is to head down into the catacombs.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” a Nordic man inquired, his facial expressions clearly suggesting that he did not want to follow through with this much to the anger of his superior officer.
“There’s no other way you idiot!” she snapped fiercely while the others grumbled to themselves in a discontented manner. The fact that they belonged to the same allegiance did nothing to quell their anger, steadily rising into a crescendo of distain towards one another.
“She’s right you know,” I could hear Hadvar groan wearily, steadily regaining his composure as the effects of the potion began to set in “the only other way out of here is through the underground tunnels but it hasn’t been used in years – who knows what lurks down there. For all we know the place could be infested with frost spiders.”
It was at that moment my eyes grew wide with Hadvar’s prospect, reactively shivering at the thought of those horrid creatures.
“Are you alright?” I could hear Ania inquire towards me, her head tilted in a perplexed manner “You look a little pale – I didn’t even know Argonians could get pale.”
“Neither did I...” I muttered wearily, desperately trying to repress the thought of the horrifying creatures of many legs from my mind. Even the fact that she had finally used my name did not settle me, my hands twitching nervously.
“Oi, I ‘ink he’s scared of the little spiders,” the greasy haired Nord mocked, much to the amusement of the others.
“Sure, place a few creatures in broad daylight and even the most pathetic of warriors could strike it down,” I sighed in exasperation, my gaze matching his with searing hatred “but imagine this: you’re in a group travelling down the darkened caverns. You feel as if something is watching you but you’re not quite sure. So you foolishly persist, marching towards your intended objective until one of you trails off by mistake. That’s when they strike.”
I could tell that the unkempt Nord was unimpressed, unlike his associates who were surprisingly responsive to my words. Even Hadvar and Ania looked on with intrigue, curious to see where I was going with this.
“The first victim is always the first to alert the group and they know that. They’ve been bred since birth to incapacitate their prey. First they fire a web towards your face, simultaneously silencing and blinding you,” I grew more and more confident with every word I spoke, pacing up and down like some kind of academic in Winterhold “that’s when they strike. Your muffled cries are no match for their poisonous venom as they cocoon you in their web, hanging you like some kind of trophy until their hunger grows. As for the others it is not long until they split up, making it easier for the creatures of the shadows to pounce.”
Once again my eye fell upon the confident Nords, their eyes falling upon the ground.
“One by one your group is silenced, their muffled cries of their companions becoming the last thing they hear before their inevitable fate. If you go charging down there without thinking then you may as well be as good as dead.”
“Mmm...” I could hear Ania reply in an almost complacent manner, something which seemed oddly out of character. At first I dismissed this, disregarding her response as an attempt to regain her confidence amongst her ranks. With their attention drawn towards me I continued.
“We need a plan – something that will get us out of this godforsaken keep alive. Does anyone have any ideas?”
“Mmm...”
There it was again, that nonchalant response that did not seem like it belonged at all in the context of the situation. Out of the corner of my eye I couldn’t help but notice a strange shape thrashing silently upon the ground, its body wrapped in some kind of silver threads. And that’s when I froze in terror, my body no longer responding after I had laid eyes on the sight before me. Not far from the entrance to the catacombs lay Ania, her eyes were wide in horror as she desperately tried to call out for help behind the webbing that sealed her mouth. For perched above her lay a hideous creature of incredible size, its crimson eyes lighting up almost immediately at the sight of fresh meat. The creature’s fangs began oozing at the prospect of another meal, screeching in delight. It seemed as if the catacombs had come to us first, unwilling to permit us our freedom. It was at this moment I began to think that I should have stayed behind. After all, I may have made a nice belt...
Sorry this took so long work has really been piling up on me recently. Hope you enjoy this chapter its not as great as I'd hoped it would be but nevertheless hope you enjoy it! :D

Skyrim (C) Bethesda
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