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It was mid-morning, 9 AM. The air was crisp and a bit chilly. Fabius's bare arms felt frozen solid, as they had been marching north since 7, and even then, he had a rough time sleeping. It was too cold, and the only good tents were given to the captain and his officers. Fabius was but an Imperial soldier. He wore standard Imperial light armor, carrying a standard-issue blade at his side. He was born in Anvil, so he wasn't quite that used to the cold of the frozen northlands. He complained quite a lot. The soldier stopped in his tracks. The warrior ahead of him, Cassius, turned. "Fabius." He said, "We need to keep moving. We'll be at Ivarstead in a half hour if we keep going now..." He continued, attempting to get his friend to follow the unit. "Once there we can rest in front of a fire and the cold will melt away. Now, hurry before the captain sees you!!" Fabius straightened, frozen (literally), and then with all the strength in his body that he could muster, he pushed on.

It was not long until an arrow smacked into the dirt road in front of his feet. He stared down at it. A second arrow dashed by his helmeted head and hit a comrade in the chest. The soldier grabbed at the arrow, falling to the ground in surprise. By now the soldiers had all drawn their swords and held their shields close. The archers had their weapons ready as well. "STEADY!!" Cried the captain, his long gold-colored Imperial sword at the ready. More arrows flew from the trees, but this time the Imperials were ready, holding up their shields. Fabius felt his shield push against him as an arrow snapped upon its steel plating. Then he heard shouting. From the treeline, Stormcloak soldiers charged, wielding claymores, swords, axes, maces. It was absolutely terrifying to him. "SHIELD WALL!!" Ordered the captain. The soldiers of the Empire turned to this threat, moving their shields together to form a wall formation, the archers behind them firing upon the oncoming rebels, and felling several. Fabius watched as the enemy ran at him, coming closer, and closer, and closer. "HOLD!!" He heard the captain yell. "FOR YOUR LIVES, HOLD!" Cassius looked at him quickly.

"I'm going to kill twice as many as you, Fab ol' boy!" He grinned. Are you mad? Thought Fabius, these are bloody barbarians, this is their ground, I'm going to die a frozen corpse and that corpse is going to be devoured by bears or wolves or-... The Stormcloaks themselves! No, the Nords were civilized... Most were, that he knew... But, he grew up in the Empire, what did he know?? The enemy met them like water upon rocks. Fabius pushed out as an axe rang out upon it, the rebel growling in his face. The face was scarred compared to Fabius's young looks, obscured by an iron helmet and a great orange beard, and the teeth looked worse than a goblin's rear. Fabius slashed out with his sword, but the Nord caught it in his axe, laughing madly. He loved it, he really did. Alas, this was not Fabius's first battle, and he knew what he was doing. The boy pulled his sword back as the noise of battle erupted around him. He growled, his blood and adrenaline were raging within him. He stabbed outward quickly, all within a matter of seconds, as his survival instincts kicked in. He felt the tip of the steel blade pierce the chainmail of the enemy and enter his stomach. The Stormcloak gave a groan, and his skin went white, and he dropped his weapon and shield and fell forward, slumping towards Fabius. Fabius shoved him off and ran to the aid of Cassius.

Cassius and he had been friends since 4E 198, when he first joined the Anvil barracks before both of them were sent out to this place. Ergo, the two of them had been watching each others backs for about three years now. Both were twenty-one years old. Cassius was battling a woman wielding a claymore. She swung it over her head in a wide arc and it came down, only to meet Cassius's shield. Cassius roared at her. She brought her blade back for another swing when Fabius came up behind her, bashing her in the back of her helmeted head with his own shield. She stumbled forwards and turned, and Fabius stabbed his blade directly through her visor. Blood spilled out like a waterfall and as he pulled back to flick the dark blood off the body fell back. Cassius nodded and returned to the fighting. Fabius did the same, turning and heading for the captain, who was surrounded by three warriors carrying giant battle-axes. His officers seemed to be holding out quite well. The captain was on his warhorse, slashing down at these enemies. Fabius ran at them through the battle, cutting down another Stormcloak soldier who got in his way. Yes, this was it. His blood was boiling, his body felt as though it was on fire. Frozen north? More like hellish north. He ran through another warrior, and continued on his way to aid his captain, his breath huffing and puffing, coming out in a cool mist.

Then the arrow hit him. He dropped his sword and shield, but kept running, half-aware of what had just happened as a sharp pain echoed from his back into the rest of his body. A second later, his feet left the ground, and he was diving through the air. He put his hands out in front of him quickly just as he made contact with the dirty ground. The sounds of battle faded around him, the world fell into darkness and shadow, and he fell unconscious.