A call went out from the watchtower. Even muffled through the wood and stone walls of the inn, Azeron knew exactly what it was. Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion, had arrived. General Tulius himself would be leading the procession. The messenger had said there would be two carts of prisoners - traitors and rebels all. Despite himself, Azeron felt his stomach knot with apprehension, ad perhaps, he thought, a little fear. And it wasn't long before the rumbling of wooden wheels on the cobble road could be heard outside the inn.<br/><br/><span style="color: YellowGreen">Who are they Dad? Where are they going?</span>The inn keeper's boy asked from just outside the inn door.<br/><br/><span style="color: Sienna">Lets go inside son.</span>His father said.<br/><br/><span style="color: YellowGreen">Why? I want to watch the soldiers.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Sienna">Inside. Now.</span>His father ordered sternly.<br/><br/>The door to the Inn opened and the the inn keeper and his son entered. Through the open door Azeron caught a glimpse of the carts. There were men and women, dressed in Stormcloak blue, and two others in rags... and there, with his back to the Inn was Ulfric, dressed in furs and kings garb. Azeron looked away before the door closed behind the man and his son. He didn't want to see this.<br/><br/>The inn keeper and his son retreated away from the door. Outside there was talking as the horses were reined up, and the reading of names from lists. Then there was a sudden shout and the woman who had spoken with the Thalmor shouting in return.<span style="color: Blue">Archers!</span>She yelled. There was a sharp cry not far from the inn's door, which fell suddenly silent. Someone tried to run.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">Can't outrun fate.</span>Azeron mumbled to himself as he stared at the fire burning in the hearth. He suppressed a feeling deep in him of another time, and another place.<br/><br/>Then there was talking, and General Tulius' voice, then a prayer for the condemned.... and then... something else. There was another sound, from outside - a resonating sound rolling down the mountain slopes. Azeron's eyes widened and he looked up and stood slowly.<br/><br/>Outside the inn, the people of Helgen fell silent. But the disturbance was forgotten a moment later as the General ordered for the execution to continue. A priestess began the prayer of last rights, but was cut silent by one of the prisoners. Shortly after was the loud Thwack of the headsman's axe. And then the cries - Imperial bastards! Justice! Death to the Stormcloaks!<br/><br/>And then the sound came again, echoing from somewhere beyond the walls of Helgen, but somehow closer this time. Azeron frowned. He had never heard anything like it. Azeron glanced around the inn, looking for some other recognition of the sound, or explanation. Then there was a shout from outside, this one distinctly Human.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOliveGreen">What in Oblivion is that?!</span><br/><br/>Azeron looked toward the door and started for it. But, as he took his step, a guttural roar split the air above Helgen and the ground leapt beneath Azeron's feet. The Dunmer slipped and fell and the very world seemed to shake. The inn keepers son shouted in surprise and sudden fear, and dishes and bottles flew from the tables and bar. Azeron pushed himself back to his feet. Outside there was a flurry of shouts. Then it sounded as though the very sky itself was ripped open.<br/><br/>Azeron reached for the door but as his finger outstretched, there came another burst of thunder and the very air seemed to withdraw for a brief instant, then in a sudden shower of splinters and debris, Azeron was thrown backwards. The door that he had been reaching to open an instant before smashed into him and threw him to the floor as the world exploded around him. The wall of the inn shattered like glass as a force struck it on a scale Azeron had never seen. The wood and stone that had been a wall was now flying through the air. The burst blewhot coals from the hearth fire across the inn and ripped the entire structure asunder. Above, the roof split and cracked and the second story came crashing down on the far end of the inn, behind the bar.<br/><br/>Azeron hit the ground and slid backwards, and the world fell eerily silent. There was shouting all around him, but it seemed so distant and muffled, as though he were under water. The patrons at the inn, the Elf, the Argonian, the Breton, the Nord and the Orc seemed to have suffered no better.<br/><br/>Azeron blinked and raised a hand to his head as he stumbled to his feet. He withdrew it, he saw the red glistening of blood. He blinked again, but the world felt like it was spinning too wildly for him to think. He blinked as he realized he was outside - he had stumbled out of the wreckage without even knowing it. He fell and caught himself on a knee and looked up. Above Helgen a grey-black maelstrom spun, and from it reined fire, as though Oblivion itself had opened above the fort and was now spewing hell down upon them. But Beneath it, was a black shape, a figure of legend and myth. Azeron stared at it's breadth as it flew over him and in a single clarifying moment that defied everything he knew, a word appeared in his mind scrawled from ancient tales and metaphor.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">Dragon.</span>He whispered in shock and complete disbelief.<br/><br/>The world came rushing back to him - the inn, the town, the people. Azeron pushed himself to his feet. Soldiers were scrambling, and the door to the tower just west of the inn had collapsed. The Dragon roared that same sound that had heralded it coming through the mountain passes.<br/><br/>He needed to think, to realize what was going on, but he didn't have time. Reason turned to reaction and Azeron ran back into the Inn, blood running down the side of his face from a gash he had suffered across his forehead.<span style="color: Red">Move now! Get out of the inn!</span>he shouted and ran to pull large debris from those who were trapped. The maid girl lay dead behind the bar, a wooden beam that had snapped and fallen from above, as did the Inn keeper. A sharp of wood had pierced him in the chest, and the side of his face was bloody and broken where something had struck him. Though, as Azeron quickly looked across the debris, he noted he did not seem the man's son.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">Come on!</span>He shouted and grabbed any that stayed behind to pull them from the inn before it collapsed on them.<br/><br/>As he emerged beneath the open sky again, Azeron saw the Dragon swoop down and bank near the tower with the collapsed archway. With incredible agility, it hooked the porous surface of the tower with a talon on its wing and grabbed the structure, landing on its very side. It reared its head back and smashed it through the tower's solid stone wall, then pulled back and into the hole it breathed a jet of flame. Even as far from it as Azeron was, he could still feel the heat.<br/><br/>An arrow arched and struck the Dragon, bouncing harmlessly from its black, sharp scales. The Dragon turned its head and with a flap of its gargantuan wings, it lifted off the tower and banked for the imperial archer who had fired upon it. The blast of air from the lift off threatened to throw Azeron once again to the ground. The blast collapsed the front of the inn, just as the last of those within made their way out. The inn had caught fire, Azeron realized.<br/><br/>As Azeron watched the Dragon turn and veer off, someone jumped - they<i>jumped</i>from the hole in the tower to what was left of the inn below. Crazy bastard whoever it was, Azeron thought. Azeron watched a pair of soldiers charge across the square to the east. Their passing snapped the Dunmer from his stupor at watching the Dragon and he began running after them. Imperial soldiers were gathering near the eastern gate. Already, arrows arched through the air at the Dragon from the grouping, and bolts of flame raced from the hands of the priestess. Others made their way to the keep, but after seeing the Dragon smash a hole in a fortified tower with its head, Azeron wasn't about to trap himself in another building.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Come on!</span>One the the soldiers waved to the group outside the inn as he ran for the gathering of soldiers. Azeron's resolve returned and flame leapt to life across his hands. Against all sanity, and for better or worse, they were all now caught in a battle with a creature that wasn't supposed to exist.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>