The Return of the Bloodmoon - Part 1: Destiny Doomed

Prologue
“You need to go, quickly, before they spot you two!”

“Namelia, I can’t –“

“Maverick, you have to! We have Keira to think about!”

''Their werewolf pack was losing ground, bodies of both sides littering the ground with bright red blood spilling into their once blue lagoon. The Aldmeri Dominion, Altmer or High Elves, had come to claim their land to further advance their agenda to claim all of Tamriel, starting with their home in Morrowind.''

“Mom, I won’t leave you!” Keira piped up, stepping in between her parents.

“You don’t have a choice! I need to stay, but you two can go! Go to your father’s homeland, Skyrim! Remember your training, Keira. Remember what you need to do.” Namelia countered, ushering them with her giant claws as she had already transformed into her werewolf state.

“Mother! Father! No!”

Chapter I: Unbound
''Hooves trotting down a man-made path, cart wheels spinning along the way, and the gentle breeze blowing as Keira woke to find herself onboard a prisoner cart with three others as the last thing she remembered was a gloved fist making contact with her face. As it stands, Keira was definitely not in the right state of mind, mood, and circumstance to try and escape the cart. Being surrounded by soldiers and having your hands tied didn't make for great means of leaving.''

“Hey, you, you’re finally awake!” ''A man across from her greeted, eyes studying her briefly. He was a Nord man, gruff in build and soft in the face. Blonde hair to his shoulders and a matching beard, the man’s ocean blue eyes and features in the face made the man a contradiction – a peaceful soldier.''

“…” ''Keira was in no mood to talk, given she wasn't fully aware of her surroundings and problem. For now, she would remain quiet until necessary.''

“You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there!”

“Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell.” The man next to the blonde proclaimed, before looking over to Keira. “You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here, it’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.” He was a Nord as well given the comparison between the two men in front of Keira; inky black hair, the body a bit lanky but held some muscle, skin tanned by the rays of sunlight.

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” At one point in their discussion the Imperial guard guiding their cart had told them to shut up, but was ignored.

“What’s wrong with him, eh?” ''The thief asked, as Keira looked to see another blonde man next to her, gagged and wearing a fur cloak. His face held no peace, and neither did his hazel eyes. Those eyes, however, held pain and a fire in them, a fire that burned Keira to the core for a mysterious reason. The fire Keira could not place, but it was familiar nonetheless. The man’s build was impressive, although most left to imagination given the fur cloak he wore not only covered him well but added extra padding. This man was used to the cold, apparently. As for his face, it was etched with a few stress wrinkles that caused him to look much older than he could have been, as well as a few scars in discreet places. Perhaps he was older, it was hard to tell in these lands, and if Keira had to guess maybe he was in his late thirties? Compared to Keira’s twenty old self, it was possible.''

“Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” ''The first blonde cautioned to the thief. ''

''Keira could care less about who they were at the moment, for not too long ago she had just witnessed merely days before her parents die by the hands of the Thalmor. When she tried to cross into Skyrim as her mother told her, she was taken prisoner – accused of being a rebel. Keira couldn't fight back, lest the battle reveal who she really was, besides being a Nord. She didn't need that happening, as it wasn't time yet.''

“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?” The thief asked, fear apparent in his form.

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.” The blonde across from Keira said with a grim undertone to his voice.

“No! This can’t be happening! This isn't happening!” ''The thief cried with panic in his tone that matched his expression, his ebony eyebrows trying to attach themselves to his hairline as high as they were, eyes wide in disbelief. A minute passed, but it felt much longer for Keira as the ride seemed to never end, Keira doing well to not let out an annoyed sigh at the idea.''

“Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?” The blonde asked as a gentle smile graced his face.

“Why do you care?”

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.”

“Rorikstead. I’m… I’m from Rorikstead.”

 After a few quiet moments where Keira got her bearings as during their conversation she was recovering from her grogginess, as all four of them looked beyond to see where their fates lay.

“General Tullius, sir, the headsman is waiting!” A soldier had cried out from beyond them as they were entering a small village of sorts, slight confusion on the face of Keira as she tried to look further ahead, her own ebony colored brow rising slightly as the other remained still.

“Good, let’s get this over with!” ''The man presumed to be Tullius replied in a coarse voice. Keira turned her head to the right to spot him with some Thalmor, a growl nearly escaping her at the sight, the confusion fading into a deep scowl – her brows furrowed upon her green eyes before she collected herself to return her expression to its neutrality. Turning back to face the two men in front of her, she noticed the blonde man bristle as his blue eyes spotted them too. What Keira didn't notice was Ulfric’s hazel eyes on her from the moment she spotted the Thalmor, the intensity of how he studied Keira and her reactions, the embers growing in them.''

“Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines, please help me!” The thief begged to the sky, breaking the brief silence.

“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!” The blonde piped up, the hatred burning in his once peaceful eyes before cooling back down as he looked around them. “This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny… when I was a boy, Imperial towers used to make me feel so safe.” The blue-clad man reminisced, a soft chuckle ending his reverie as the cart soon came to a corner to stop.

“Why are we stopping?” The thief asked as he fidgeted with his rags for clothes, already knowing as it was obvious to everyone else; maybe he was expecting a different answer.

“Why do you think? End of the line.” ''The blonde replied with that earlier peacefulness, finality doused his words. The cart came to a stop in front of a tower and the chopping block.'' “Let’s go, shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us.”

“No wait! We’re not rebels!” The thief screeched, clearly not wishing to meet his makers so soon as everyone in the cart stood to hop off.

“Face your death with some courage thief.” The soldier had replied gruffly, a roll to his eyes in slight annoyance.

“You've got to tell them, we weren’t with you! This is a mistake!”

''Keira couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh at the man, as she had silently agreed in her mind with the soldier that stood behind her, as they dismounted the cart. At least if this was how her fate ends, at least she will be in the Hunting Grounds with her family and pack, rather than Sovngarde. So she would face her death with a gleaming and bright smile, rather than cower away like the man standing affront her.''

“Step toward the block when we call your name, one at a time.” A female soldier had ordered, standing tall in front of the group with a male next to her, book in tow.

“Empire loves their damn lists…” The blonde soldier, who now stood next to her, groaned out as he jumped out of the cart.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.” ''The male with the book called out, scribbling as he did so. Keira watched the gagged man step toward the chopping block, dignity rolling on waves off the older man. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought as she then turned to the man next to her with a frown.''

“It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.” The soldier uttered solemnly, watching his leader walk onwards to his death.

“Ralof of Riverwood.” ''The book-keeping soldier stated, a small grimace to his expression appeared just as quick as it then disappeared, as the same blonde soldier who had been by Keira’s side stepped up next to Ulfric. At least she knew who he was now.''

“Lokir of Rorikstead.” The male had called out next, expression neutral as ever.

“No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!” The man named Lokir exclaimed, making a run for it.

“Halt!” The female captain called, turning to watch him run for the gates.

“You’re not gonna kill me!” ''Lokir cried, nearing the gates of freedom. Sadly, he wouldn’t make it.''

“Archers!” The captain cried, as a well-placed arrow pierced through Lokir, cutting his dream to shreds, “Anyone else feel like running?” she dared them.

“Wait, you there. Step forward.” The male next to her said to Keira, ushering her forward. “Who… are you?”

“I am Keira.” She replied quietly, yet fluently, trying to keep her answers simple but truthful in the event they realize their mistake.

“Keira, where are you from?” The male questioned, not harshly, but lacked a little patience.

“Originally born in Skyrim, I hail from Morrowind as of now.” ''Keira replied tersely, not giving room for further questions. Less who know of her real reason to come back to Skyrim, the better. She noticed from the corner of her eyes Ulfric peering at her from the corner of his eyes, and Keira could have sworn it held a prideful gleam to them. Dismissing the notion, she turned to face the soldier in front.''

“Captain, what should we do? She’s not on the list.” He asked of his superior, a bit of concern etched his face briefly.

“Forget the list, she goes to the block.” ''The captain sneered, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes as she looked upon Keira. At that moment, Keira knew hatred as she looked upon the woman, oh how much she could rip her asunder with her claws but knew she could not.''

“By your orders, Captain.” He replied to her, before looking over at Keira, “I’m sorry, at least you’ll die here in your homeland. Follow the captain, prisoner.” ''Keira tried to hold back a hiss at the notion. Skyrim could never be her homeland, but even if she did somehow get out of this, would it ever? As she walked to her spot in line, she turned to see Tullius confront Ulfric.''

“Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use the power of the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne!” ''Tullius barked, hands on his hips in depredation. Ulfric could only grunt behind his gag, unable to say a word to defend himself.''

‘Wow, Empire sure loves their trials.’ Keira thought bitterly to herself as she watched the two impassively.

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, but the Empire is gonna put you down and restore the peace!” Tullius growled, but his growl held no candle to the roar in the distance that everyone could hear plain as day.

“What was that?” The soldier who took names asked aloud, standing opposite the chopping block itself, the ‘book-keeping soldier’ Keira had nicknamed.

“Nothing, carry on.” Tullius ordered, standing aside as the female Captain stepped forward.

“Yes, General Tullius! Give them their last rites.” The woman captain exclaimed, turning to face a Priestess.

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight Divines upon you-“

“Oh for the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” A soldier in blue armor growled, stepping forward, head-on to his death.

“As you wish.” The Priestess huffed, walking away as the Captain used her leg to push the soldier to his knees.

“My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?” ''The red-head huffed as his neck fit the block. The headsman stepped up, raising his might axe above his head. With a silent swoop, he chopped the man’s head clean off. Blood spilled from the block onto the ground beneath it and his head.''

“You Imperial bastards!” A blue-wearing soldier cried.

“Justice!” A villager cried in retort.

“Death to the Stormcloaks!” Another villager agreed with the previous.

“As fearless in death, as he was in life.” Ralof lamented, a sigh escaping him.

editing stopped temporarily

“Next, the Nord in the rags!” The Captain rallied, calling Keira up to the block. The roar from earlier emerged, louder this time, as if it was approaching.

“There it is again, did you hear that?” The male Imperial from earlier questioned.

“I said, next prisoner.” The Captain growled, as she waited for Keira to approach.

“To the block prisoner, nice and easy.” The male Imperial cautioned to her.

Keira didn’t understand why the Captain loved to see her die, maybe she knew who she was? Distilling the idea from her head, she stepped forward gracefully, ready for death. Keira stood in place as the Captain pushed her down, her neck in place on the block as she looked up at the man who would bring her home. As the headsman lifted his weapon, the roar appeared, louder and stronger. It was here.

“What in Oblivion is that?!” Tullius cried, looking at something she could not see.

“Sentries, what do you see?” The Captain ordered, following Tullius’s line of sight.

“It’s in the clouds!” An Imperial soldier replied far off from Keira, as all she could see was the axe about to make its descent.

“Dragon!” A woman screamed, and after so the mighty beast itself landed on the tower overhead Keira and the headsman.

The black myth glared its angry, ruby eyes into Keira before Shouting at the people around her and at the village itself. It was true, dragons had returned, the end of times is upon them. As the beast roared, it shook the headsman away from Keira, thus saving her life from the axe he was about to bring down upon her neck. As the dragon continued to roar and set aflame anything it desired Keira was shaken internally at the events before her.

“Hey kinsman, get up! The Gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof roared to Keira over the commotion around them.

At hearing him usher her to safety, she quickly followed the soldier into a tower. She couldn’t be of much use given her hands were bound prior, but she could still run. She could only hope it would require that much of her as she had yet to retrieve her gear from the keep they stowed it in before the group’s arrival. As the duo entered, the door was closed and Keira spotted a Medic tending to Stormcloaks that were injured.

“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends and children’s stories be true?” Ralof asked of his leader who somehow managed to escape his bounds and gag.

“Legends don’t burn down villages. We need to move now!” Ulfric stated, his stare looking to Keira, a look she was not used to. His voice, now being able to hear it clearly, was a gruffness to match his appearance, but it held a soft undertone somewhere, like his eyes. Breaking from that train of thought, she had heard Ralof suggest going upstairs, and once she had reached the top Keira noticed the rest of the way was blocked off by debris.

“Just need to move this rock here…” A Stormcloak soldier mumbled as he was trying to clear the path.

Unfortunately he could not succeed as that big black dragon broke through the wall adjacent him and set him on fire. Ducking back from it, Keira barely escaped the onslaught. Ralof joined her when it was clear to proceed upward toward the dragon-made opening.

“See that inn on the other side? Jump through and run to the other side, we’ll follow when we can!” Ralof suggested, almost ushering Keira on.

“…” Silence greeted the man as Keira did as she was told.

She wasn’t going to object to an idea that may save her life. Once she made it through she found an elderly man crouched behind a destroyed home and the Imperial soldier from before ushering a little boy to come to him. Keira noticed that the boy’s father had been served up hot by the dragon, and the soldier was trying to save the boy.

‘At least one Imperial has a heart.’ Keira thought gruffly as she watched the boy approach the older gentleman. The soldier then looked upon her, clearly panicking but trying to save face.

“Gunnar, take care of the boy, I have to join General Tullius in the defense!”

“Gods guide you Hadvar.” The man named Gunnar replied with an appreciative smile as he took the boy in his arms.

“Still alive prisoner? Stick close if you want to stay that way!” Hadvar exclaimed, running through a makeshift path.

Keira followed, having no other option before her. At least she can stop calling him ‘the book-keeping Imperial’ in her head. As they came upon a stone wall to their left, Hadvar ducked down.

“Keep close to the wall!” He barked, and as Keira ducked down the dragon landed on that very wall, breathing fire ahead of them.

Once it ascended into the air, they began to run – through broken homes and through soldiers trying to take the beast down. When Hadvar and Keira stopped in a clearing, Ralof was spotted ahead of them.

“Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!” Hadvar growled with a seething anger present on his face.

“We’re escaping Hadvar, you’re not stopping us this time.” Ralof returned calmly, a stark contrast to Hadvar’s person.

“Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengarde!” Hadvar roared, running to the right of the keep. “Follow me prisoner!”

“This way kinsman!” Ralof exclaimed, running to the left of the keep.

The choice was rather easy for Keira, as she had a strong hate for Imperials, despite Hadvar’s show of kindness earlier. Following Ralof inside, they took a moment to catch their breaths. Keira couldn’t even process the events happening around her this quickly, but she knew she had to get out of Helgen. Easier said than done, however, as she didn’t exactly have a map to go by as of yet. Spotting a chest on the far wall, she could only assume it was her gear chest, and unfortunately she could not open it with her bounds.

“We made it. That thing was a dragon, the Harbingers of the end times.” Ralof lamented, shaking his head of the depressing idea, “Come here, and let me get those bindings off!” he added as he withdrew an iron dagger. Stepping close to the man, her nose picked up his musky scent as he cut through the rope.

“There ya go. I suppose your gear is over there?” Ralof asked, eyeing the chest curiously.

“Yes, they took it from me after they knocked me out. I hope they didn’t keep any trophies, the bastards.” Keira replied, digging through the chest to collect her few possessions. Inside the chest was; her heavy wolf armor, dual dragonbone daggers (of which her mother had made herself by buying the bones from a Khajiit caravan to make her weapons), dragonbone bow and arrows, her family ring of which looked identical to the mythological Hircine’s ring, and her locket that contained the pictures of her family and pack.

Not caring that Ralof was present, she stripped off the tattered robes and footwraps given to her by the Imperials, throwing them aside as she began to dress herself in her armor. Ralof turned to give her privacy, but curiosity slid into him as he turned to see the buxom beauty before him. Keira was definitely gifted well by Dibella, the Goddess of women and beauty; her chest was robust but not to the extreme, her hips wide to compliment said chest in a sculpted hourglass shape, and muscles and scars to adorn and shape her sun-kissed and sweat-sheened skin. He only had a side view, and her long ebony hair only did half of the covering as it curved with her, stopping above her lower back as dainty hand coming to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Keira wasn’t aware of Ralof’s staring, but he caught himself and turned back around as he tried to cool his face (and other features) down from the heat that gathered. After putting on her armor, fixing her hair back, and placing her weapons in the appropriate places she lastly put on her locket with a small, remorseful smile on her face once it was tucked underneath the armor.

“That’s the first I heard you speak to me since we came here.” Ralof commented, watching her with a sheepish grin, trying to push back the sights he had seen of her far into his brain with difficulty.

“That was because I wasn’t exactly prepared to speak.” Keira retorted with a shrug. Despite having her weapons, she always preferred her fists, so her daggers remained sheathed as well as her bow. Those weapons were just back-ups if her fists couldn’t do the job.

“Oh, sorry…I believe your name was Keira, right?” Ralof asked, trying to make small talk to appease the awkward tension.

“Yes, and you’re Ralof?”

“Yeah, and you’re from Morrowind?”

“Yes.” Keira was growing impatient, as she didn’t like to be interrogated in the middle of this disaster.

“Oh, well sorry for being intrusive; I’m just curious as to how you got in this mess.” Ralof offered as a way of explanation, noting the lace of irritation in her voice.

“It is fine, but I rather not speak of it, especially given the circumstances.” Keira replied, offering him a smile to show he was ok in her book.

“Yeah, that is true… Wait, do you hear that?” Ralof asked, concern replacing the friendly look in his features.

“Shh, Imperials!” Keira whispered, ducking next to a gate.

Ralof followed suit, both prepare to jump on first sight. Keira heard the Captain order a soldier to open the gate, and she couldn’t help but grin at the irony this brought upon her. That same Captain that wanted her dead will die by her own hands. Once the gate lowered, Ralof and Keira swooped in on the two Imperials, Keira effectively snapping the Captain’s neck. Once that was finished and Ralof finished off his Imperial, they looted the bodies – with Keira’s having a key.

“Hey, reckon it will open that gate over there?” Ralof asked, pointing to a gate across from them.

With a shrug, Keira went over and sure enough it opened the way for their escape. Proceeding down the steps further into the Keep, they ran into more Imperials of which were killed quickly and harshly. It seemed the Keep delved into an underground cavern as they trekked onward. Meeting Imperials and Stormcloaks alike, it seemed that it would be forever before they saw sunlight once more as they pushed deeper into the caverns. As luck, or maybe Divine intervention would have it, as soon as the duo passed by a sleeping bear they found their exit to freedom – to the outside world and outside of Helgen.

'Chapter II: Before the Storm'

It seemed like ages inside the cave, but once they felt the sun prick their skin, Ralof and Keira both let out a breath they had apparently been holding. Having only stepped a few feet beyond the mouth of the cave, they both had to duck down as the dragon finally had its fill of Helgen as it ascended into the skies, leaving them behind.

“I’m glad we made it out of there. You know, you should join the fight to free Skyrim, you’ve seen the true face of the Empire here today. If anyone knows what the coming of the dragons mean, it’s Ulfric.” Ralof stated as they walked down the path, Ralof leading as he knew where they were.

“You think Ulfric knows something we don’t?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?”

“True, where is he anyways? I’d sure love to kill some Imperials.”

“Windhelm, northeast of here, buried in snow so you can’t miss it; I’m glad you decided to stick with us. I ah… hope this means that I-we learn about you in the coming days, Keira.” Ralof stuttered a bit, a pink tint to his cheeks as his gaze was nowhere on Keira.

“Maybe, sometimes it’s best to leave things a mystery.” Keira chuckled as they had trodden down the hill toward three statues of sorts in a circle.

“These are the Guardian Stones, they have the ability to grant power in different areas. Some are born under one. These are Warrior, Mage, and Thief. Go ahead and pick one.”

“I was born under Lover, so no need for me to pick one.” Keira rejected, turning away to follow the path to the left.

“So you learn in all areas quicker than others?” Ralof asked, following alongside her.

“Yeah. Where are we going?” Keira returned his question with her own, trying to deflect from herself.

“Riverwood, my sister runs a mill there. We need to know if they heard about our capture and the dragon.”

“Good point. Lead on.” Keira agreed.

Ralof took the lead as they picked up where they left off on the path to Riverwood. Along the way they encountered wolves, and Keira couldn’t help but chuckle at Ralof as he drew his war axe to attack. Ralof could only look befuddled at Keira as she kneeled down to pet the wolves like pets.

“What are you doing?” Ralof asked after a moment of getting his voice back.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Keira retorted with a grin, standing to her full height as she approached Ralof, waving a hand to dismiss the wolves to their territory.

“How did you-?”

“Best you not know that yet…” Keira replied silencing the conversation as she then took lead to the village beyond them. As they reached the gate entrance, Ralof stepped forward.

“Let me handle the talking, if any Imperials happen to cross here. Riverwood is under Whiterun’s control, and it’s… neutral.” Ralof explained as he led them through the gate and to an offshoot bridge path toward the mill. As the circled around the giant wheel and logs, Keira spotted a blonde woman in a green tunic smiling as they approached.

“Gerdur!” Ralof called out in joy, a chuckle adding to his call as he stopped to watch his sister.

“Brother! Mara’s mercy it’s good to see you! Is it safe for you to be here though, we heard Ulfric had been captured…”

“Gerdur, I’m fine. At least now I am.” Ralof replied with a reluctant, but relieved sigh.

“Are you hurt? What’s happened? And who is this, one of your comrades?” Gerdur questioned, the wrinkles continuing to furrow as she then looked upon Keira with slight curiosity emerging from her brows.

“Not a comrade, yet, but a friend. I owe her my life in fact.” Ralof replied as he too turned to Keira, then back to Gerdur. “Is there somewhere we can talk? There’s no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials…” Ralof asked, his arms rose to usher her to quieten down, as she was excited at seeing her brother alive and well.

“Helgen? Has something happened...?’ Gerdur queried, her voice reflecting the curious nature the woman held. “You’re right, follow me.” Gerdur advised, understanding the situation was rocky. Leading past the mill, Gerdur looked up to spot her husband near the logs. “Hod, come here a moment, I need your help with something.”

“Gerdur, what – Ralof? Hey how are you!” The man named Hod greeted.

“Hod just come here.” Gerdur ushered strongly as she continued to lead Ralof and Keira toward a secluded area.

“R-Right, on my way!” Hod exclaimed, making his way down to join them outside of the mill.

Riverwood was a nice village from the looks of it, small and modest. Keira had to hold down a sigh as the village reminded her of her former home in a sense. It too was tiny and humble, depending on one another to survive. As Keira lightly shook her head of the memories, she and Ralof came upon a stump to sit upon as Gerdur stood before them, all waiting for Hod to join them to continue their discussion as to why Keira and Ralof appeared out of nowhere. Apparently Ralof’s nephew wanted in on the scene, but was dismissed by Gerdur to ‘watch the south road’. Once Hod came upon them, Gerdur’s expression changed from relieved to concern. The wrinkles in her face tensed and her brows sunk upon her eyes as she looked upon Ralof, her brother.

“Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in.” Hod inquired as he approached the trio.

“I can't remember when I last slept... Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us outside Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be...that was two days ago, now. We stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up to the headsman's block and ready to start chopping.”

“The cowards!” Gerdur cut in with a snide tone.

“They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would've seen the truth then. But then, out of nowhere...a dragon attacked!

“You don't mean a real, live...”

“I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there. As strange as itsounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?”

“Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know.”

“Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but...”

“Nonsense. You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Let me worry about the Imperials. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. Here's a key to the house. Stay as long as you like. If there's anything else you need, just let me know.” Gerdur turned to Keira as she offered the key. “There's something you can do for me, for all of us here. The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless...We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt.”

“Thanks, sister. I knew I could count on you.” Ralof piped up, nodding to Gerdur before making standing from the stump.

“I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but...did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric...”

“Don't worry, I'm sure he made it out. It would take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak.” Ralof had then turned to Keira, a grateful smile on his face. “Good luck, hope to see you in Windhelm. I’m gonna lay low here before heading that way.”

“Thanks, you too! I’ll head to Whiterun to deliver Gerdur’s message!” Keira replied with a nod as she set upon the road north of Riverwood.

Keira walked along the cobble-stone path, few wolves docile at her presence as she trekked along. One or two even walked with her to provide support and comradery as she saw the city in the distance, giant walls enclosed it from prying eyes as she ventured down the hill. As she was nearing a horse stable, she noticed a farm was under siege from a giant and it was fighting a group of warriors. Keira ran over, ushering her furry companions to stay back, her fists more than capable as she aided the fighters in taking down the beast. As the battle was over, the red-headed woman of the group approached Keira.

“You handle yourself well, Shield-sister.”

“I still have much to learn, despite the victory.”

“Ah, you may make for a decent Companion then.”

“Companion?”

“You’re not from here are you? We’re a group of warriors, we take care of any situation if the coin is good.”

“So you’re like mercenaries?”

“We have honor, they do not.”

“Oh, well I may consider joining then.”

“Come to Jorrvaskr, Kodlak has a sense for people. He’ll see if you’re worth it.”

As the conversation ended, Keira went back on her trek toward the city, to only be stopped by a guard.

“Halt! City’s closed with the dragons about. Official business only.”

“Riverwood calls for the Jarl’s aid!”

“Riverwood’s in danger too? You better go on in. You’ll find the Jarl on top of the hill in Dragonsreach.” The guard advised, opening the gate to allow Keira access.

Once Keira entered, she already felt congested as she passed through the crowds of people, passing shops and taverns. Keira hated feeling clustered as she did, in this humid weather. Making a mental note to head to Windhelm after this, she climbed the stairs to the castle of Dragonsreach. Upon entering the warm, home-like atmosphere, Keira stepped up the stairs, hearing the Jarl speak to his steward about a matter until she was spotted by the two, thus attracting the attention by the Housecarl - a Dark Elf woman in leather armor.

“What’s the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors.”

“Gerdur sent me. Riverwood is in danger.”

“As Housecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers the Jarl or his people are dealt with. So you have my attention. Explain yourself.”

“A dragon has destroyed Helgen.”

“You know about Helgen? The Jarl will want to speak to you personally. Approach.” With that, Keira did as she was told, approaching the throne slowly as the fire pit behind her lit brightly behind her, casting a shadow around her frame. The Jarl looked down upon her, a neutral but friendly demeanor was felt amongst those near him. The man was about thirty or so, blonde hair and beard, decent frame for a Nord, but slightly pale.

“So you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes? And you’re sure this isn’t a trick of the eye by Stormcloaks?” The Jarl questioned, clearly not ready to believe such lunacy.

“The dragon destroyed Helgen, and last I saw it was coming in this general direction.”

“By Ysmir, Irileth was right! What do you say now, Proventus?” The Jarl had turned to his steward, “Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls, against a dragon?”

“My lord,” Irileth piped up, “we should send troops to Riverwood at once, and it’s in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains-“

“The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!” Proventus argued, “He’ll assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack him! We should not-“

“Enough!” The Jarl roared, clearly annoyed at the two’s fighting. Keira contained a chuckle at how the Jarl had to parent their behavior. “I’ll not sit idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes my Jarl.” Irileth agreed, leaving at once toward the outside. Proventus made a remorseful comment about him returning to his work, but was ignored by Keira as she had turned to make her exit. Unfortunately, luck never seemed to favor her this day as Balgruuf called her over.

“Well done. You sought me out on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem.” He congratulated, handing her a set of armor that looked not only hideous but wouldn’t do Keira any good in terms of protection; Keira only grinned sheepishly as she accepted it, making another note to dump it somewhere.

“There is another thing you can do for me; suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps. Come let’s go find Farengar, my court wizard. He’s been looking into dragons and attempting to find a way to defeat them.”

Keira only nodded, not even really listening to the man as she awaiting him to lead her, making her third mental note– leave before they start handing out jobs. It seemed like she would never get to Windhelm at this rate if they kept handing Keira jobs to do without so much as asking whether she wanted to accept it or not. Keira could only pray to Hircine this was the last thing she had to do for them; as soon as she did whatever she needed to do, she would head over to Windhelm before making it back to Whiterun. She wanted to enlist for the Stormcloaks, the sooner the better. A familiar face popped into her mind at the thought of Stormcloaks, Ulfric. Keira could only push the man’s image from her mind only slightly, as she admitted he was rather attractive and only such. Keira left her mental reprieve when she noted a familiar purple cloak.

“Uncle Farengar?!” Keira exclaimed out of joy, running to hug the man.

“Keira?! So good to see you! Wow, you’ve grown so much since I visited you and your family so many years ago!” The meek wizard replied just as happily. The man was skinny for a Nord, paler than most. One couldn’t tell his hair due to the cloak’s hood, but many guessed.

“You two know each other?” Balgruuf questioned, confusion apparent in his expression.

“Ah yes my Jarl. I’m a friend of the family, a considered uncle.” Farengar explained to him before turning back to Keira. “Speaking of, how are they?”

“…They’re…” Keira paused, as she tried not to cry, “Dead. All of them.”

“What?! How!?” Farengar gasped, dark brows creasing in both shock and confusion. The Jarl could only frown.

“Thalmor. They ambushed and slaughtered. I barely made it out of Morrowind…”

“Oh Keira… I’m so sorry. How did you get to Skyrim?”

“I made it on foot, but damn Imperials ambushed me, claiming I was a rebel. If I see another Imperial, I’ll rip them asunder.”

“Keira, calm down. It won’t do any good. For now… focus on surviving. We can discuss more about it later.” Farengar felt an uneasy stare from the Jarl. He knew what Keira was, as well as the ‘family’ itself. He wasn’t about to divulge unless forced to by the Jarl, hence why he let it drop for now. “For now, I’m assuming the Jarl brought you here to help with my Dragon Project?”

“Yeah, can you fill in the blanks?”

“Well, in the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow, near Riverwood, there is a tablet that may or may not be there that’s a map of ancient burial sites.”

“Ah I see, well I’m gonna need some information on dragons in general, as Morrowind had no information on them, like the Dragon War I heard spoken about once before.”

“The Dragon War was a real event, although only the barest glimmer of the actual events has come down to us. Far back in the Mythic Era, the dragons were worshipped as gods in Skyrim. Many of the monumental ruins that still dot the landscape were, in fact, built as temples to the dragons. The details are lost, but at some point the Nords rebelled. After a long and terrible war, the Nords overthrew their dragon overlords.”

“So the dragons all fell?”

“No, as this very palace was built to house a dragon.”

“I see, so have you encountered any?”

“Sadly no, work here keeps me from such opportunities. If you do, care to tell me?”

“Of course! I’ll head on out then, expect me back in say… three weeks?”

“Alright, but why so long?”

“I got other priorities to check off, need time once I get the stone to do so.”

“Be safe Keira, you’re the last one you know…” Both didn’t realize the Jarl was listening in behind the wall, having pretended to have left.

‘Last one? Of what?’ Balgruuf thought as he listened.

“I know Uncle, I know. I wouldn’t have been here had it not been for that black dragon.”

“You mean the dragon from Helgen?!”

“Yeah, it saved me from the damn Imperial’s chopping block.”

“Why were you at the chopping block?”

“Stupid assholes thought I was a rebel.”

“Of course… I’m guessing you’re going to be a Stormcloak?”

“Maybe, albeit they sound better than Imperials, but I’m not going in blind either.”

“That’s my girl. I’m here for you, ya know. Keep me posted on your adventures and whether you remake the pack?”

“Of course! You’ll be the first to know, promise!”

With her goodbyes made to Farengar, Keira left for the Barrow quickly, ignorant of the Jarl’s spying. Once she was gone, the Jarl approached the wizard.

“I believe you need to explain to me that conversation.” Balgruuf demanded, not harshly, but authoritative.

“My Jarl, it’s a story that will require seats and mead.” Farengar sighed, placing his quill to the side as he took a seat, as did the Jarl.

“Well?”

“She’s a lycaea, the last given the recent news.”

“What’s a lycaea?”

“A child of werewolves, a child of Hircine. It’s a very rare occurrence, as those who are infected with Lycanthropy cannot bear children. Keira’s a special case, as her parents of course werewolves.”

“By the Gods…”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds! They’re good people, despite the blood that runs in their veins! I was even named an uncle, and I’m a pure Nord!”

“Very well, continue.”

“Their pack, the Bloodmoon, they were a friendly group of werewolves in Morrowind. They hunted out of necessity, and controlled their transformations very well. I encountered Keira’s mother when she went on a hunt and ended up the hunted. I found her in her human form severely injured. I aided her best I could, and since then I’ve been an honorary member of the pack. I was then named Uncle to Keira when she was born.”

“I see, so she is special because of how she was born?”

“Well, yes, but now there are more circumstances…”

“Such as the Thalmor…”

“Yes, you and I are both aware of their campaign. They must have found their grotto, Gods the massacre…”

“I heard that she was the only one to survive? How many was in the pack?”

“At least two hundred were in the pack, excluding allies…”

“And the Thalmor wiped them out?!”

“Except for Keira, yes they were. I can understand why the Imperials thought her a rebel – Nord woman crossing a border in unique armor.”

“Yes, that certainly adds salt to the wound.”

“Indeed.”

“So, what is she to do now?”

“Rebuild her pack, of course not by force, my Jarl. They never operated that way.”

“Then how?”

“Consent, my lord. If she encounters people she trusts to aide her, and if they give permission, she can infect them.”

“I never heard of a werewolf asking permission to infect others…”

“Hence why the Bloodmoon Pack is, or was, special; why she is special, my Jarl.”

“That she is…I think she will do more than simply rebuild…”

“Perhaps, time can only answer that.”

“Yes, only time…”

Keira had only just made it to the entrance when the sun had set. Trudging through snow and taking out a few bandits bit off the cold in the mountain as she approached the giant black door. Feeling a sense of dread upon this place, Keira thought it safe to let the moon fall upon her as she transformed into her wolfish side - ebony fur covering head to toe, emerald orbs for eyes and razor sharp claws took the place of the female form.