Chapter 383 - My SI Stash #83 - The Waifu Scrolls: Skyrim by Dis Lexic (Skyrim) (1/2)
-The ridiculous anime-ness of this story is just epic~ Tsundere Alduin carried this hard/
Synopsis: After getting Isekaied into Skyrim, I thought I knew what I was in for. Slay Alduin, save the world, not hard and I already knew the game like the back of my hand. However, there are two problems with that line of thought. Number one, reality doesn't act like a video game and number two, Alduin won't stop following me around!
Rated: M
Words: 12K
Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/13688325/1/The-Waifu-Scrolls-Skyrim (Dis Lexic)
PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)
-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)
Chapter 1
My ending came suddenly and violently. One moment I was walking home after a particularly long day at work and the next I was hit by a truck, with my last living memory from the world of my origin being seeing the words 'Truck-kun Deliveries' stencilled on the vans side. The next thing I knew, I was slowly coming too in a rather hard seat that was rattling around like crazy, which did absolutely nothing for my throbbing head. It certainly didn't help that it had suddenly got extremely cold, which, considering that Britain was in the middle of a heatwave, was rather jarring to say the least. I g_r_o_a_n_e_d as I slowly forced my eyes open, blinking as I tried to get my vision to clear.
Once I could see again, I found myself sat in the back of a wooden, horse drawn cart that was slowly making its way down a rather bumpy path, surrounded on all sides by pine trees and snow covered rocks. The air was freezing and fresher than anything I'd ever experienced, with nary a hint of pollution, aside from the smell of unwashed bodies. I tried to move, but quickly found myself unable to as my hands were bound with thick, strong rope.
Beside him was a grubby looking man with dark hair wearing ragged...rags and a frightened and angry expression. He had the air of someone who was sincerely regretting whatever choices he'd made that had led him to this point.
The final man in the cart was a little more well groomed than the others, which, along with his rather more impressive armour that had a thick, fur cloak dr_a_p_ed over the back, suggested that he was likely of a higher standing. In addition to having his hands bound, he was also wearing a gag that was tied tightly enough that I could see him wince slightly whenever the cart went over a bump.
”Hey, you,” said the first man, drawing my attention back to him, ”You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”
I glanced at said thief as he scowled while trying to figure out why this entire thing seemed so damn familiar.
”Damn you Stormcloaks,” growled the apparent thief, ”Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!”
I froze. Stormcloaks? Hammerfell? SKYRIM?! Oh shit, I'm...F_U_C_K! I shook my head and pinched myself, hard. It hurt. A lot. Combined with the fact that things weren't flying and I wasn't losing my teeth, the chances that this was a dream seemed rather low. Then again, the last thing I remembered was being hit by a truck, so maybe I was in a coma or experiencing my brains last gasps of life before it faded into oblivion? It was that or I'd been Isakaied and considering where I was, I think I'd rather it be the other option.
The horse thief turned to me, apparently unaware of my minor breakdown that was going on in my head.
”You there...You and me, we shouldn't be here,” he said, ”It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”
”We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,” said Ralof.
”Shut up back there,” said the soldier driving the cart.
”Whats wrong with him?” asked Lokir after a moments silence, nodding to Ulfric.
”Watch your tongue!” snapped Ralof, ”Your talking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!”
Lokir went stark white.
”U-ulfric? The Yarl of Windhelm?” he stuttered, ”Your the leader of the Rebellion! But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?”
”I don't know were we're going, but Sovngarde awaits,” said Ralof softly.
Lokir went even pailer, to the point where I was worried he'd pass out before we got to Helgen, and started shaking and whimpering. Honestly, I can't blame him and if I wasn't still partly convinced I was dreaming, I probably wouldn't be much better.
”N-no, this isn't happening!” he whimpered, ”It can't be happening!”
”Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?” asked Ralof softly.
”Why do you care?” snapped Lokir in a shaky voice.
”A Nord's last thoughts should be of home,” said Ralof, now sounding wistful.
Lokir glared for a moment, before he deflated, looking utterly defeated.
”Rorikstead,” he muttered, ”I'm... I'm from Rorikstead.”
”General Tullius, sir, the headsman is waiting!” called one of the soldiers driving the carts.
I turned back to the front as we passed through the gates into the town. The place looked a lot like the small village from the games, although there was a rather different air to it. Maybe it was because I could also smell the scent of wood smoke and horse dung in the air, which made it seem that much more real. Honestly, the smell more than anything was what was making me become more and more convinced that I wasn't dreaming. It just smelt to...real if that makes any sense.
I ignored Ralof's angry mutterings about the General and the Thalmor and Lokir's muttered prayers as I watched the residents of the town quickly begin to hustle into their houses and wondered just how many would survive the imminent attack. Probably not many and those that would would either be rendered homeless or murdered by the bandits that moved in after the flames went out. It was a...rather sobering thought. I also had to wonder if I'd be around to see it considering that I wasn't entirely sure that I'd be able to escape when the time came. I wasn't exactly in the best shape after all.
I was pulled from my short introspection as the cart came to a stop
”Get these prisoners out of the carts!” shouted the captain, ”Move it!”
”Why are we stopping?” asked Lokir, sounding rather nervous.
”Why do you think?” asked Ralof, sounding slightly amused, ”End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.”
”No! Wait! We're not rebels!” shouted Lokir.
”I don't think they care that much,” I muttered as we stood and jumped out of the cart.
I stumbled as I landed, feeling strangely out of sorts all of a sudden, almost as if my limbs were a different length than I was used to. Fortunately, Ralof caught me before I fell and I shot him a grateful look.
”Face your death with some courage, thief,” said Ralof
Lokir ignored him.
”You've got to tell them!” he shouted, now sounding desperate, ”We weren't with you! This is a mistake!”
”Step towards the block when we call your name,” said the captain, completely ignoring Lokir's hysterics, ”One at a time.”
”Empire loves their damn lists,” muttered Ralof.
”Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm,” said Hadvar, making a note as the bound Jarl stepped forwards.
”It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!” said Ralof.
”Ralof of Riverwood.”
Ralof followed his leader without protest, although he did shoot a glare at Hadvar, who barely reacted.
”Lokir of Rorikstead.”