Young Writers Society

This is a fan-fiction based off of the game Skyrim. Chapter will vary in size, so you are warned! Thank you for reading and enjoy!

(Keep in mind I am editing these old chapters and may forget some parts so if there are plot holes do tell me! Most likely I meant to fix them and never did when I was first writing this... monstrosity.)

Chapter One - Lyralica

Nords. That's what this land is filled with. Hundreds upon thousands of thick-skinned, racist, heartwarming people. Most have blue eyes though, which I don't get and don't think I ever will. Some have beards though. I don't get beards, feathers are much better. I don't have anything against them though. I actually quite like them. I was raised by their religion, after all! And I understand their anger over the White-Gold concordat that the empire was practically forced to sign.

Although the Imperials do have their reasons for sticking to the Empire, the Stormcloaks, led by Ulfric, are having their religion taken away. Have you seen how much a Nord loves their gods and goddesses? It's a lot. I've visited Skyrim much over my twenty-five years of life and all I really want from this place is the flowers and its weapons. The deadlier, the better. And poisons, wonderful.

But the sights in this place are wondrous to behold. Mountains that could reach Sovngarde, grasslands teaming with wildlife ripe for a swift arrow and snow as fluffy and backbiting as a skeever.

My nostrils started feeling irritated, taking me out of my thoughts. I just got new piercings put in and those were always difficult to deal with. The rings on my horns jingled, making a pleasant sound fill my ears.

The wind picked up, bringing the scent of sweat and blood toward me. It rustled the snow-white feathers atop my head and made me look back. Imperials. And I was an Argonian with no papers to prove that I was legally visiting. I had lost them in a river when running from three bears. Sure I was born here but making it official? Yeah, no. And the bears, they are scary, ok? It's not like it was a group of bandits!

The captain who was covered in shiny, steel armor had ordered men to tie up my wrist and tail. They thought I could use it to get out and by Talos, they were not wrong.

They pushed me onto the wagon, three others tied up, and one that had a gag. One had doe-like eyes and dirty blonde hair, another with storm-colored eyes and the last, a dusty-ruby colored Argonian with a set of horn rings with gems. Her eyes looked like Dragons Tongue. She smiled at me, her sharp teeth glinting in the sun.

I waved quickly and smiled back. I made sure to flash my teeth. Clean teeth, good first impression. Or an arrow to the knee, but hey, I'm not judging. The storm-eyed man smiled as best he could with the gag and the doe-eyed man smiled shyly but waved quickly. They all had this look in their eyes. A look I knew very well. The look of knowing that death was approaching, that you would either be in Sovngarde or end up somewhere in between.

The binding on my wrist and tail was digging into my scales, making them raw and I could feel the sun beating down, making me sweat. They had taken my bow and gold. They took everything. And I did nothing wrong.

The carriage shook as we pulled into Helgen, the most popular border hub known to travelers. People clattered about, rushing into homes as the feared Stormcloaks arrival. They feared the lizard people and the walking cats. They feared what was different.

A man began to read off names, calling us forward. Ulfric Stormcloak was the man with a gag, Ralof was the doe-eyed man and Terrsyphen was the dusty, ruby scaled Argonian. Then I was called. Lyranlica "Lerry" Heartfire, raised in the marshes and snowy lands of Skyrim, taught in ways of the Nord folk.

A roar that could open the gates of Oblivion shattered the sky and shook the ground as if Red Mountain had erupted once again, making my ears ring. A black figure disappeared among the mountains. What was it?

Confusion shifted over Terrsyphen's face while Ulfric had no expression. Two blocks were set up, blood drenching the boat. Flies were gorging themselves on heads in nearby baskets, eyes puffy and empty. I shivered. Disgusting. They could at least treat them with respect, the dead deserved that at least.

A guard grabbed me and Terrsyphen by the arm, his hands digging into my skin. He shoved me to the ground and my head was too close for comfort to a blood-stained basket. No thanks.

The Executioner lifted the ax for me, the blade obviously dull. A longer death, I thought as the black shape landed on the tower behind us. All I could hear was screaming. Rocks and dirt flew everywhere while Terrsyphen grabbed me by the elbow as best she could, dragging me toward a nearby building with Ralof and Ulfric. Smoke filled my lungs, burning my nostrils and making me cough like I had swallowed a faulty potion.

A child screamed as the creature swooped down, stealing the nearby guard. People were clamoring, some trying to help and others just stood with fear in their childlike eyes. It was something I would never forget. And the bodies...

Ralof cut off his bonds with a broken piece of glass then he untied the rest of us, making introductions. He was a soldier in the Stormcloak army and Ulfric, was, well, Ulfric. The leader of the rebellion. He explained that they had been ambushed.

I nodded, rubbing my wrist and making sure my tail was ok. Terrsyphen chuckled weakly and looked at me.

"Terrsyphen. Terrsyphen Ciddvale. Best we do formal introductions, get them out of the way." She said, holding out a hand.

I shook her hand, replying while Ralof looted some nearby bodies. "Lyranlica Heartfire."

Ralof grunted, throwing an iron great-sword, four steel daggers, and a hunting bow onto the ground along with some fur armor. He and Ulfric still wore their cloaks of wolves fur and other such Stormcloak formalities. The Imperials wanted people knowing that rebels would not be tolerated.

I peeked my head out of what was left of the doorway, guards everywhere. The dragon was soaring overhead, its roars peppering the mountains.

"Follow me, I know a way out. In that building across from us. Behind it, there should be a trapdoor." Ralof stated, running out the door before any of us could speak.

Ulfric huffed, following him. Terrsyphen just shrugged and followed, I just behind her tail. Ralof opened the trapdoor, climbing down the latter and we all followed while the shouts of imperials could be heard. They still wanted to get the prisoners even if it meant dying. That was lovely.

Cobwebs covered the cave and it smelled of poison. The dirt was moist and the wood holding up the small storage room was rotten. The whole room reeked.

A small opening sat at the end of the room, leading into an open cavern. I could hear the water trickling from a small stream. None of us spoke as we made our way through the twist and turns. Ulfric only ever grunted or made some snide remark when we took a turn. Ralof was careful and precise while Terrsyphen kept writing and scribbling into a book.

I took out my book, looking at the pages. Scribbled with notes of weapons and little drawings of flower types. A book for flowers and sharp, dangerous things.

"Look! Through here!" Ralof shouted, a crack in the stone showing sunlight. Thank Talos we didn't run into any spiders. I hate those. People were easier to kill, anyway.

Stepping outside was like taking a breath of fresh air. Well, it felt like even though we weren't in the cave for long. The dragon came soaring overhead, letting loose another shout that could spook the gods. Its scales were as black as night. No thanks!

Ulfric ran ahead, no doubt with more things to do. Ralof looked at me and Terrsyphen then told us that having more people join the rebellion would be nice. Terrsyphen nodded while putting her journal away.

Ralof walked off and left me and the ruby-scaled Argonian alone.

"Hey, Terrsyphen?" I practically shouted with the clinking of my horn rings loud in my ears, hoping I didn't attract any unwanted attention.

"Yes, Lyranlica?" She replied. She kept weaving her claws in and out.

"What are you going to do?"

She took a deep breath then looked at me. "I am selling the gear, buying new weapons and going back to mercenary work."

"Oh..." I said. A mercenary? Interesting... "Well, can I join you till the next town?"

She looked at me, eyes wide but composed herself. "I-I don't know. I mean, company for a bit would be nice... sure. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting another Argonian for a long while."

I smiled widely, skipping up to catch her strides. "Wonderful! You know, I've visited Skyrim many times before.”

"Hey! You know what Deathbells look like? They're really pretty flowers and remind me of scales. My favorite flower would be Dragon's tongue though. They look like the color of your eyes, actually." I rambled, skipping along while my book bounced in my pouch. I had to act chipper now that I was going into town, and with this stranger.

Terrsyphen nodded and smiled widely. She was twirling a septum in and out of her claws. "Deathbells are wonderful for poisons. I've never visited Skyrim myself, you see. First time."

"Really? Oh, then we have to visit Riften! They have the best jeweler! Then there's Whiterun, the lead trading hub while you've got Markarth which is perfect if you want a break from plants. It said to be made by the dwarves! You know-" I started rambling again, maybe hoping to give her some form of good information about the land she was in but she shushed me.

"There's no we. But thank you for the tips. I'll be sure to visit the jeweler." She plainly stated then gestured to Riverwood up ahead. The way she shushed me ruffled my feathers but I swallowed the anger from it.

I ignored the quick poison in her words and nodded. "There's a blacksmith up ahead. He'll take the gear." I stated then trotted over to the general goods merchant.

I handed over some daggers and unwanted imperial clothes. I kept the looted hide armor. The man only gave me about 300 gold for all of the items but I wasn't complaining. It was something, a start.

Walking out, Terrsyphen had two iron swords sheathed and sported iron armor. She looked at me but walked away, toward Whiterun.

She didn't even have a map of the land yet. I shook my head. If she died, she died. 

"Have any bows other than imperial bows? Maybe a glass one?" I asked the blacksmith who just looked at me perplexedly. He was covered in soot and welts from the heat of the forge.

"Take it or leave it, lizard." He replied, turning back to his work. See? People may suck here or are as friendly as a bee.

I took a hunting bow, which would have to do for now. After stocking up on arrows, I looked at my map. Riften was rather far off and I would prefer taking a wagon. I had a friend there to visit. But I needed gold... A ruin set atop a mountain. The guards talk about it earlier. Maybe there was loot in there to sell, like gems or a better bow.

Tightening the strap on my satchel, I headed toward the ruins.