Day Nine

I can't begin to explain what I have been through over the past two days.  I'm not even sure if it was real or some sort of black magic at work.  Who ever reads this, you must understand that everything you are about to read is true... there was a dragon at my execution. 

I guess in a way I should be thankful to him, or her, that my head is not rotting in some wicker basket, covered in flies and mud.  Before I was able to get up and move around, the dragon had already taken out several Imperial guards.  I don't suggest wearing full plate-mail when fighting a fire-breathing dragon.  A nearby family didn't even have time to scream.  The four of them and their log home, were engulfed in flames within a matter of seconds.  I quickly snapped my head to avoid seeing the carnage. When I finally looked back the smallest of the two children was still holding a teddy bear in her charred, dead, hands.  That sight was not something I will soon forget.

One of my fellow prisoners unbound my hands and helped me up off my knees. I could barely stand with the heat from all the fires scorching my eyes and skin. We were completely surrounded by flame. I could see my life flashing before me. My home town on Summerset Isle, my daughter Lucy and my wife Vana'de, all so calm and beautiful. For a split second I forgot where I was as I let emotion take over me. I was ready to die. I was ready to be burned alive.

Someone with a big hand grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me towards a nearby tower. I gave in and started to run.   There were six people inside including myself.  Three men were on the floor wimpering and crying while saying prayers to their God.  I couldn't make out the language but their hands were raised and their faces screamed forgiveness.  I could barely hear them a moment later, the dragon let out a deafening scream. It sounded angry not hurt.   I could hear guards barking orders at each other outside.  Black smoke was starting flow in through the window.  I tried to focus on the figures running past but I couldnt make anything out.  I decided I couldn't stay here any longer and ran to the top of the tower gasping for fresh air along the way.

I didn't have time to react. Suddenly the dragon's black leathered head smashed through the right side of the wall knocking me down a few steps and hard against the wall. For a brief moment I could see straight into the dragon's left eye. The golden glass eye was lit with fire and fury. It wasted no time in snatching up the guy in front of me and flying off. As quickly as it had appeared it was now gone.

The rest of the way up was blocked but I could see clearly out the newly formed window. There was a house near by, no more than eight feet. For any other Elf this would have been a cake walk but I was still weak from not eating while in prison and the smoke was weighing heavily on my lungs. I waited a few moments to see if the sky was clear. I jumped. I made it, obviously, but I was still in no better position than I was before. There was still a dragon somewhere out there flying around the town, picking people off like an eagle feasting on small rodants. And the fact that I was still a convicted criminal surrounded by at least fifty Imperial guards was not reassuring. I can either lay low and take my chances with the Imperials, if there were any left standing or I could try to escape this burning hell-hole and take my chances with that dragon.

Excerpt Three

Seven days I spent crawling around that dark and damp room they called a prison.  Seven days without water or even edible food to fill my gut.  How is this even humane, to lock a man away without a trial.  I guess I should expect no less from the Orcs, such a barbaric race.  Not to mention the unfavourable rumours of the growing weakness and corruption seeded deep within the Imperial Legion.

I could feel the cold winds of Skyrim province filling my chest.  The frost biting at my fingers and toes was almost unbearable.  What I wouldn't have done for a new pair of boots.

There were two men in front of and one beside me.  They bound our hands and threw the four of us in a carriage pulled by two horses.  Till this day I still do not know what the crimes were of the other three, I guess I should of asked.  I was, after all, considered to be with them.  One man kept talking about some rebellion and how the guy beside me was destined to be king.  At least that's what I could make out.  If he was a real king, why was he bound with the likes of us?  Either way, I don't think asking him would of helped.  His tongue had been cut out and I am sure someone had a good reason to do so.

Excerpt Two

I have not eaten in three days.  Though my plate sits by the door, half full, I can not stomach the Imperial Guard's vile prisoner rations.  Although waiting for a change in the menu may be just as hopeless as getting out of here with my head still attached.

The stone floor is so cold and moist with moss and weeds, that I can barely sleep.  They let us keep our boots but I can still feel them beginning to swell from all the water seeping through the cracks.  The cries of other prisoners echo through these chambers but I am not afraid.  It's the ones that talk about escape and how they are going to make it back to their families, that bothers me.  Hope can be a powerful ally or your worst enemy.  I have lost all hope of seeing my daughter again, the warm sun on my on face or the moon cast its cool shadows across the fields of Tamriel.  Guilty or innocent, my fate has been decided.

The guards gave me this roll of parchment and a quill, by request of the king, to write down my confessions and name any of my accomplices.  I will do no such thing!  For now, I am simply counting the days until they decide I am no longer useful.  Perhaps these words will make it back to my home town some day.  Or even to my sweet little Lucy, as I have left her with nothing but an empty house.

Excerpt One

I should probably start with my name.  I am Tekniko Elgrain of Summerset Isle, born and raised.  Though this island lives and breaths everything Altmer, I have the blood of Nords running through me.  At least this is what I was told by my adoptive parents.  My parents said they found me, abandoned, and barely breathing at no more than two years of age.  They took it upon themselves to raise me as their own.

As I grew into a young boy I soon realized I was very different from every one else.  My friends and family were much faster than I was.  They were able to conjure magical spells and move through dense brush with the swiftness of a mountain cat.  Where they specialized in accuracy and long ranged weapons, like bows, I was drawn to the brute beauty of a heavy weaponry like sharps axes and swords.  I was slower, much slower, and I was left with no other choice than to wield these weapons.  If you want to be a part of the Imperial Guard someday, then you need to start training at a very young age.