Of Blood and Quill

Part I: The Abode

Katrina grimaced at the sight of her overly-cooked venison steak. All the time she spent with her father and never once did she attempt to learn how to cook for herself. Never did she pay enough attention to those little things - the things that matter the most when you lose a loved one.

"Could be worse I suppose." She mumbled to the darkness surrounding her. The cave she'd discovered two days earlier would be ideal if it weren't so damp and cold. Not to mention the half-dozen skeevers she had to dispatch to claim the cavern as her own. Still, the air outside had a certain chill to it Katrina found frightening.

"Skyrim's wind alone can kill all but the toughest man." Her father use to remind her. This information seemed abundantly more useful the night she fled Solitude.

Having been born into nobility, Katrina often found tasks that required a relative level of strength maddeningly difficult. For a Redguard, her inability to wield a sword was somewhat shameful for her father to live with, having begged the eight divines for a son. Still, she prayed the path she chose pleased him - her being a diplomat and writer of renown skill.

Before the rebellion, she'd often lie up at night and ponder where she'd be in her life had she chose to wield a sword rather than a pen.

Katrina remained awake for a few minutes longer, contemplating how best to start her day once the sun rose.

Kill a dragon? She thought to herself with amusemant before drifting off into a deep sleep.

Part II: Before The Fire

Solitude seemed to groan aloud as it's walls collapsed in and out. Ash and soot caked nearly every square inch of the cities interior, like a gutted monster who's insides are made of blackness. Charred and limbless corpses dotted the city - an epitaph to the chaos and disorder that Solitudes walls failed to contain.

The rebellion seemed to sprout from seemingly nowhere. General Tullius had only just addressed the people of Solitude regarding the new Imperial draft sweeping across Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel.

"Citizens of Solitude, it's my duty and obligation to you as the Imperial spearhead here in Skyrim to protect and serve you as best I can. The Legion here in Skyrim is possibly the finest in all of Tamriel. From the part we played in quelling the Stormcloak rebellion to vanquishing the recent Necromancer Uprising in Winterhold. Our troops are bred to fight and win.

However, with this duty comes a great responsibility.

You the people provide us with the troops we require to continue our campaign here in Solitude as well as the whole of Skyrim. Without willing and able men and women to serve amongst us, our numbers will dwindle, our fortresses will fall, and disarray will surely ensue. A draft has been issued in four of the major cities in Skyrim, including our own. Whiterun, Windhelm, and a few mages from the college in Winterhold have already drafted the numbers the Emperor himself requested. I ask you all to do the same. If you have the ability to swing a sword, fire a bow, or sling a spell, it is your duty as a persons of this fine city to make yourself known and enlist at our liaison.

This address is the first and last warning to any able-bodied man or woman who fails to enlist. You will be arrested on sight and charged with high treason. We expect at least one man or woman from each household if at all possible. Lords, ladies, and shop-owners are not to be held to this address. I thank each and every one of you who shows their courage and integrity by enlisting. Those of you who choose to run and hide - If you somehow manage to escape the city, I hope you meet an untimely and slow demise for your cowardice. That is all."

Before General Tullius could retreat from his podium to the stone walls of his quarters, the calamity began.

"We can't afford to lose able hands!" One man shouted angrily. "How can you expect us to leave our homes?!"

The faces in the crowd all resembled one another - disgust, hate, fear of the future, all but the faces who waited patiently for their time to attack. There were a dozen of them, each robed and hooded to hide their faces. It wouldn't be long before the colors of their actions would be known.

[This is just the introduction to a fanfic I've been dying to work on for some time. I'm still knocking off the rust so bare with me. There will be more to come.]