Chapter 2 - Saved by a dragon
Well faithful reader, I am sure the title to this chapter drew a laugh from you considering my renown. Looking back on those events all I can truly say is "Talos looks after the faithful."
In truth I considered that as my chapter title, but I thought humor was in order. Not that the events in this chapter will be light and merry, but rather because they will not be. In all of my trials I have learned to take joy and comfort when I can.
Yet I shall cease these needless talks of things to come and simply pick up the tale proper. And like all proper tales this shall start off with a monsterous beast.
I awoke from the blow to the head by the legion Nord with the sad eyes to find that I was in a wagon, with three other men. A somewhat disturbing proposition for a chaste and pure Priestess of the Divines, but fortunately they were bound as was I.
The one sitting opposite of me was kind and told me what had happened. The second man, a thief of some kind if I remember, whined that both he and I should not have been there on that cart with Stormcloak rebels. Upon hearing that word it all made sense, and identified the man sitting next to me.
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. 
The man who would be High King of Skyrim. Who waged a supposed holy war against both the Thalmor and the Empire. He was in either his late forties or early fifties, but time had not weakened him physically. In fact, if the rumors were true he could use his Voice to kill, and indeed I learned later that they were. In summary, he was every bit the Nord noble; strong, commanding, with an air of ruthless power held in check by a will as strong and cold as they mountains of Skyrim themselves.
To say I was impressed would be fair.
To say I was enamoured would be incorrect. For while there was much to admire about Jarl Ulfric, there was a darkness to his cast that I could not at the time identify but certainly did not care for.
The cart ride was short and we quickly made it to Helgen. I thought to plead my case and explain I was not a Stormcloak rebel. I had been wearing my priestly robes upon my capture, but they had been taken off sometime during my recent bout of unconciousness. Yet, that plan was killed in its infancy by two things. First the death of the thief, who had proclaimed his innocence and tried to run, and the Captain of the Imperial legion who decided that no matter what I was going to the block.
That Imperial Captain was all vinegar, it was probably how she had
raisen in the ranks, by bludgeoning anyone with her grating voice. Perhaps you think me cruel to speak of the dead, but she did try to have me killed because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I don't remember much of the trial, if it could even be called that. All I remember is being lined up with General Tullius lectured at Jarl Ulfric like a stern father about to give a beating.
Then the executions began.
It started with a Nord who I always felt mistook bravery and stupidity and volunteered to go first. Probably if he had not Ulfric would have gone first. Yet with conviction that Stormcloak walked to the block and taunted his killers right up till the axe blade fell and with snicker-snack so to did his head.
It was at that point the Captain definitively proved without doubt that she did not want to be friends. Rather than call for another Stormcloak or even Ulfric himself to be brought forward, she directed her venomous decree at myself.
I would like to say I spat at her feet and cursed her for a fool. For all of them being fools and murders of the innocent. Yet, the truth is that I was numb. Valus's death had destroyed me. All the pain of the past month, fleeing the city as a wanted criminal, knowning my father was dead, enduring the sufferings of the long road had been held back by Valus and his calm, quiet strength. Yes, I did love him, but only realized it until he too was taken from me along with everything else.
If he had not died, would everything be different? Would I have become the woman I did? I like to think that he would have fought by my side as we slew the enemies of all good peoples.
Enough of musings. Distraught as I was I followed directions and placed my head on the block. It affored me a wonderos view of my savior swooping down of black wings of death as it slammed to a stop on the top of one of Helgen's towers. I saw its glowing red eyes and spiked black scales. Its sword-like claws and fangs. With a roar the great beast unleashed hell upon us, and saved my life.
