journal Elena Whiteblade

  • 17th of Last Seed

    Ok, where do I even begin today? I haven't had a chance to  write the last couple of days because, well, lets just start off from the moment I woke up in the imperial carriage.

    I woke up finding my hands bound and the back off my head still sore from the hit I recieved from those bloody imperials. "Hey, your finaly awake". I was greeted by a Stormcloak, also bound, sitting opposite of me. A quick look around revealed we where riding downhill with one imperial driving and two more prisoners besides me and the Stormcloak on the right. One of which was gagged.
    As we rode downhill the Stormcloak greeting me turned out to be a guy named Ralof and the gagged man no other than Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak! He wasn't in a state to exchange formalities though.

    Anyway,

    The final prisoner was a horse thief from Rorikstead, where ever that might be.
    As we rode into Helgen imperial soldiers shouted, people gave demeaning looks and one after another the carriages stopt.
    One by one we were called forward, Ralof went first followed by Ulfric. After that, the horse thief was called. He tried to run away, back up the road. "You will not kill me"! I think he made it a couple of yards before he took an arrow to the knee, or was it in his back?

    A strange sound was heard. "It's nothing" General Tulius, the imperial in charge said.

    After that, the imperial turned to me. "You, your not on the list. What's your name?"
    "Elena Whiteblade, Breton" I replied. The imperial turned to what seemed his superior. "She's not on the list, what do we do?"
    "Forget the list, she goes to the block". She replied.
    The Imperial turned to me again. "Sorry, we'll make sure your remains are returned to Highrock".

    Yeah, that really made me feel better.

    The last rites were being given but a Stormcloak didn't have the patience, - or decency - , to wait. "Lets get this over with". He would have been wise to be patient, but I'll get to that in a bit. He was kicked down, his head on the block. The axe went down, the head rolled in the basket and his corpse fell to the ground. I wonder if I've ever been more disgusted in my life. Oh wait, I will in about a minute.
    "Next, the Breton!" The imperial who ordered my exeqution said. Does she hold some kind of a grudge against Bretons or something?

    My head was put to the block, over the body of the dead Stormcloak. No, they didn't even moved his body. I braced myself for the worst, you know it's possible that your head lives on for up to a minute? The strange sound was heard again, and above the tower that stands in the centre of Helgen