Senégon the Mage - Chapter 1: New Beginnings

• Posted by Julien Hall July 2, 2012 - 1,084 views

  Senégon the Mage - Chapter 1: New Beginnings

   

   

  16th of Last Seed, 4E 201

             I had just crossed the border back into my homeland Skyrim. A feeling of comfort filled me, I was home. 

  Although I’d made my centennial trip down to the Mages Guild in the Imperial City for decades now, I still got that sense of warmth whenever I returned to Skyrim. I gave my white stallion, Heleg, or “Ice“ in the common tongue, a pat on the side as if to say, “Well done“.

            We rode further into the deep mountains of Skyrim for another hour or so when Heleg whinnied and stopped - a sign that he had heard or sensed danger. I could feel it too, that feeling that you get when you are being watched. I sat there and listened, my staff set calmly across my saddle. I heard a dull “CLANG” to my right, a cry of pain shortly after. Heleg and I rode forward toward the noise, slowly and quietly. I peered through the trees, looking for any sign of movement. I saw a blur of motion dead ahead, I squinted my eyes to try to get a better view. My eyes aren’t what they once were, I thought. But then I saw it, a raging battle between red and blue. We moved forward, close enough to see, but not close enough to pose a threat to either side.

            The blue - clearly outnumbered, were giving ground quickly. I saw the imperial banner flying above the red. So the red was the empire, that must make the blue... - A branch broke behind me; I spun around only to see the flat of a blade smash into my head, and everything went black.

  17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

      Bump, bump, bump. What is that? I thought. Bump, bump, bump. My head hurt something fierce; I felt a jolt of pain as I opened my eyes. My hand instinctively jumped to my head to try to rub the pain away, that’s when I saw my hands were bound. 

             “Finally up, eh?” taunted a voice ahead of me. I was in a wagon with three others, all of us bound. A soldier sat across from me, a man in rags next to him, and the final man of our party was dressed in elegantly tailored robes of cloth and bear fur, this one looked vaguely familiar. “You okay there?” chimed the same voice, it was the soldier. “The names Ralof, you don’t look so good.” Once he said that, all of the events of the previous day crashed into my mind.

             “So the fighting has finally begun between the legion and Ulfric’s Stormcloaks then?” I asked.

            The man in the tailored robes gave a muffled grunt, his mouth was covered. Then I recognized him, the Jarl of Windhelm and Leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak.

            “Why don’t you ask him yourself when we get out of this mess?” said Ralof as he gestured toward Ulfric.

  I looked ahead to where we were headed to see a fort; its gates open wide in welcome to the wagons carrying prisoners. An imperial Flag flew high from the forts tallest tower.

             “Welcome to Helgen,” said Ralof with a note of Gloom in his thick Nordic voice.

             “General Tullius, the headsman is ready!” cried one of the Imperial soldiers.

            I followed the sight of the man who spoke to sneak a sight of this General.

  He was a mid-sized man, wearing armor of blood red, the color of the empire. The armor itself was trimmed in what appeared to be gold. The general was accompanied by an officer, and a few Gold-Skinned Elves with bright blue eyes and fair blonde hair.

            “General Tullius, the Military leader of the Legion in Skyrim. And it looks like he’s talking to the Thalmor, Talos smite them.” Ralof whispered to me across the wagon.

            “Shut up back there!” threatened the Legionnaire controlling our wagon.

            Finally we came to a stop in the center of Helgen, a headsman’s block clearly visible to all, and a stocky muscular man covered from head to foot in hide armor dyed black. He wielded a mighty ax which he leaned against casually.  

           A young soldier with a list began to read names off of a list, “Lokir of Rorikstead.” He said eerily through the silence. The silent man from our wagon walked up slowly and treaded his way to the block. After what felt like an eternity he yelled the last name on the list, “Ralof of Riverwood.” Ralof made his way to the block after the others. “Captain, this one’s not on the list.” The young soldier said to the captain next to him as he gestured toward me. The Captain stared at me, malice in her eyes.

            “Send him to the block.”

   

  Let me know what you guys think, I just recently got back into writing fiction and I would love some constructive criticism. Here is the link to chapter 2.  

   http://theskyrimblog.ning.com/profiles/blogs/sen-gon-the-mage-chapter-2-dragons