Ylsi of Bruma

The Nord stared at me for a moment. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."

The officer, a captain apparently, grunted. "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain,” he said. “Follow the Captain, prisoner."

"Ulfric Stormcloak,” Tullius said, only partly to Ulfric himself, I suspect, as he turned away from the jarl and let his eyes wander through the crowd of stormcloaks and townspeople. “Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to **** his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric, still gagged, grunted. He didn’t even have to use his voice, because even from a distance, his eyes said everything anyone needed to know. If he could, he wouldn’t have hesitated a heartbeat to strike Tullius down.

"You started this war,” Tullius continued, as if he had read same thing in the jarl’s eyes I had. “Plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

The wind turned, and suddenly I heard a deep, rumbling roar on the freezing air.

The Nord shivered. "What was that?"

Tullius gestured dismissively. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius.” The captain nodded, and signaled a robed priestess taking shelter under the tall stone watchtower. “Give them their last rites."

The priestess stepped into the harsh daylight, spread her arms, and turned her face towards the sun. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."

A stormcloak snorted and stepped towards the block. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

The priestess looked stunned as startled hare and murmured an "As you wish."

“Come on,” the stormcloak continued, having reached the chopping block. He was already on his knees. “I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

Tullius raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the executioner, who lopped the stormcloak’s head off in one swing. As the bitchy captain kicked his lifeless body off the chopping block, another stormcloak charged towards the general.

“You Imperial bastards,” she screamed, before she was silenced by a fist to the stomach.

"Justice,” a man called from the gathered audience, followed by a "**** to the Stormcloaks,” from someone else.

The stormcloak from my cart lowered his head. "As fearless in **** as he was in life," he said.

“Next,” the captain shouted, right before another roar rolled over the mountains, closer this time.

"There it is again,” the Nord muttered. “Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner," the captain said, “You, step up.”

The Nord threw me a sad look. "I’m sorry girl,” he said. “To the block. Nice and easy."

That was it. It’s a sad fate, being executed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but there was nothing I could do about it then. I sighed as I dropped to my knees before the chopping block. Its previous victim had left it covered in quickly cooling blood. I tried not to think about it too much, and lowered my head onto the block.

For a third time, I heard the mighty roar, and this time I saw its source. Back then, I wasn’t sure if it was the fear of **** flowing through my blood, or if it was my overactive imagination, but what I see just couldn’t be real. The gruesome black horror swooped down from the mountains, turned its terrible wings, and headed straight towards me.

Tullius’ stoic demeanor seemed to break for a moment, because his voice sounded confused as I heard him shout. “What in Oblivion is that?”

“Sentries,” the bitchy captain screamed. “What do you see?”

I heard more screaming, but the executioner seemed unbothered, as he raised the axe like nothing fucking insane just happened. Just before he could finish the job however, the dark monster crashed down onto the tower. The gusts it caused made the executioner lose his footing. Before he could get up, the creature opened its maw. The last thing I saw was the executioner being ripped to pieces in a thunderous explosion, before everything went black.