บท 2: A Dance with THE Dragon

The cart jolted to a halt, and the Imperials began yanking the Stormcloaks out, only to be shaken off as they hopped down on their own, waiting expectantly. Except for one.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief," Ralof replied, his voice steady.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time," the Captain commanded, her tone cold and authoritative.

"Empire loves their damn lists," Ralof muttered under his breath.

We formed a line as the Imperials began to take account of each of us.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm."

"It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof declared as Ulfric moved to a new lineup of prisoners.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir protested, attempting to flee.

"Halt!" the Captain barked.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir shouted, panic rising in his voice.

"Archers!" the Captain ordered, and Lokir was promptly shot down. I had forgotten about his fate, too preoccupied with my own issues to remember. Whether he could have survived the chaos ahead was irrelevant now.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the Imperial taunted, rubbing it in. His name escaping me—Harald, perhaps?

"Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?" Harald's voice cut through the tension, and suddenly, I experienced a jarring out-of-body moment. Time froze, and I could see myself from the front. I took a moment to revel in the absurdity of it all, doing a little dance. Not only did I get to customise my character, but this also meant I would likely have access to other game elements.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, contemplating my choice of race. I considered some of the more exotic options for their unique traits, but this wasn't just a game; I didn't want to deal with the implications of racism in this world. So, I selected Nord and moved on to the other options.

After what felt like an eternity of tinkering—more detailed than I had anticipated—I finally settled on my new form. I had taken the dwarf I created during my fun, stripped away the comical aspects, and transformed him into a tall, strong human. I was lean but muscular, with long light brown hair, a full but not overly long beard, and striking blue eyes.

Now came the name. After much deliberation, I decided on "Ovhun," meaning Trust-Hero in the dragon language. I opted against a last name, recalling that Nord tradition dictated that comrades would choose one for you when you earned glory.

I accepted the changes, and time resumed. I looked back at… Harry? No, no one is called Harry in Tamriel. Harald, that was it. He stared expectantly at me for a moment. I blinked and said, "Ovhun." It seemed the game elements wouldn't do the talking for me, obviously.

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman," he said gravely, though a hint of sympathy lingered in his tone. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list. He goes to the block," the Captain replied curtly.

"By your orders, Captain."

"He who passes the sentence should swing the sword," I snarked, glancing at Daenerys. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I smiled, whispering, "I hope you're still fire-proof."

"And who are you?" Harald asked, turning his attention to Daenerys.

"Daenerys Targaryen," she stated gracefully, thankfully leaving her introduction at that.

Harald opened his mouth, perhaps to question her further on her race. She does look like a cross-breed with a Dunmer and a Nord–resulting in an appearance that's more appealing to the human eye. Or perhaps he wishes to question if she should be executed as well, but the Captain interrupted, barking, "Get it over with! Send her to the block."

"Follow the Captain, prisoners," she ordered.

We shuffled toward the line of those awaiting their fate.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne," General Tullius proclaimed, putting on a show.

Ulfric muffled a grunt in response behind his gag.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

A roar echoed in the distance.

"What was that?" Harald asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"It's nothing. Carry on," the General commanded dismissively.

"Yes, General Tullius," the Captain replied, turning to a priestess. "Give them their last rites."

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…"

While this was happening, I glanced at Daenerys, who was staring up at the sky.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," one of the soldiers boldly interjected.

"As you wish," the priestess replied.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the same Stormcloak shouted as he stepped toward the block, leaning down.

The headsman raised his axe and looked to the Captain. At her nod, he dropped the axe, snuffing out the Nord's life.

"You Imperial bastards!" shouted a Stormcloak soldier.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof noted sombrely over the din of the crowd's jeering.

"Next, the Nord. In the rags," the Captain said, pointing at me as she realised she was surrounded by Nords.

A roar echoed again, closer this time.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Harald asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.

"I said, next prisoner!" the Captain barked again.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy," he ordered.

I turned to Daenerys and quietly said, "He's no friend of yours. Get ready to run for your life and follow me." She looked at me, questioning, but I offered a nod and slowly walked over to the block.

As I knelt over the bloodied wood, I caught sight of a massive shadow passing overhead, followed by an earth-shaking roar that rattled my bones. The headsman wobbled, and I envisioned the axe falling, ending my life in an instant. My heart raced with adrenaline.

"What in Oblivion is that?" the General exclaimed.

"Sentries! What do you see?" the Captain demanded.

"It's in the clouds!" shouted an archer.

Alduin landed on a stone keep, barely fitting on it. He looked like he was made of obsidian. The headsman fell over, thankfully missing me. The dragon was far more massive than in the game, and I could feel his suffocating presence.

"Dragon!" a Stormcloak shouted.

"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing!" barked the General.

"Guards, get the townspeople to safety!"

"Fall, damn you, fall!"

"Fus…Ro…Da!" Alduin roared, and chaos erupted. The dragon unleashed more shouts, summoning a storm above as the scene descended into pandemonium.

"Hey, kinsman! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Ralof yelled. I was already on my feet, spotting Ralof crouched next to a shocked Daenerys. I ran over, grabbed her by the elbow, and sprinted after Ralof toward the tower.

We rushed into the tower, and I turned to Daenerys. "Follow my lead and stay close." I moved to the foot of the staircase leading up.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked, bewildered.

"Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move. Now!" Ulfric urged.

"Up through the tower, let's go!"

"We'll have to carry this one on our backs…" a Stormcloak said, gesturing to a downed soldier.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way! Agh…" The soldier upstairs was cut off as Alduin burst in, debris crashing down around us.

"Get back!" Ralof shouted as Alduin bellowed, "Yol…Toor…Shul!" A torrent of fire blasted through the stone tower, searing heat washing over us.

After a moment of shock, we backed away. I assessed the jump ahead; it wasn't far—maybe half a story. The distance was daunting only because of the fire.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow when we can!" Ralof shouted from the back.

I turned to Daenerys. "Bend your knees and roll into it." Without overthinking it, I jumped. The fall wasn't pleasant, but my adrenaline dulled any pain. I landed and looked back; Daenerys hesitated, staring down at me as if I were mad.

"Come on!" I shouted.

She pulled back, then ran and jumped, tumbling before me. She looked a mess, grunting as she landed, but I helped her back up.

I dropped through the hole in the second floor and turned to catch Daenerys as she followed. We bolted out of the wooden dwelling that would soon be reduced to ashes.

As we paused to take in our surroundings, I saw the town was already in ruins. Flames engulfed buildings, and I heard Daenerys gasp beside me. The air was thick with smoke, and the sounds of chaos—yelling and screaming—layered over the crackling inferno.

We rushed forward, and I spotted the boy from earlier out in the open, with Harald calling him over. The dragon landed nearby, and we all scrambled to avoid the flames that rushed past us.

"Still alive, prisoners? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way," Harald barked.

"Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defence," he ordered, still referring to us as 'prisoners' as if he didn't know our names.

"Gods guide you, Hadvar," I muttered under my breath. That was his name! Close enough.

We followed Hadvar across the courtyard, sticking close to the wall. Alduin landed atop the wall above us, unleashing fire upon a man down the alleyway, quickly turning him to ash in a horrifying display. Alduin lingered there for what felt like an eternity as I held my breath. Finally, the dragon took flight and left, allowing us to continue.

We passed through the charred remains of a house as Alduin shouted, "Pahlok joorre! Hin kah fen kos bonaar." It didn't sound like a spell; he was likely taunting us.

We moved into a main thoroughfare, heading toward a stone keep when Ralof suddenly called out, "Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time," Ralof replied defiantly.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde," Hadvar shot back.

"By Ysmir! Nothing kills it!" cried a random Imperial soldier.

"You two! Come on, into the keep!" Ralof urged. I was already moving in that direction, the roars of the dragon echoing ominously nearby.

We pushed the door open and rushed inside the keep, heading toward an inner room.

"Come on, this way. I can cut you loose inside. Come on!" Ralof shouted back as he ran ahead.

When we entered the open area, we found Ralof kneeling over a fallen man. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother," he sighed, looking around the small room. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it.

"That thing was a dragon. No doubt about it. Just like the children's stories and the legends—the harbingers of the End Times."

"We better get moving. Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off," Ralof urged, cutting the ropes that bound my wrists. I took the dagger he handed me and moved over to Daenerys, who appeared somewhat catatonic, her gaze distant and unfocused. It was clear she was grappling with the reality of a dragon attack for the first time. I couldn't help but wonder what point in her journey this Daenerys was at, but I knew she had likely heard countless tales of dragons burning down castles and towns. It must have been a shock to experience it from this side of the conflict.

I handed Daenerys the dagger, just in case she needed it. "There you go. You might as well take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore," Ralof murmured, gesturing toward the fallen soldier. I moved over to him and began stripping him down to his underclothes, trying to put on whatever armour I could salvage.

"All right, get that armour on and give that axe a few swings. I'm going to see if I can find a way out of here." The armour was a bit tight but manageable. I swung the worn but still sharp axe a few times to assess its feel.

After that, I approached a nearby table, eager to test something. I picked up a metal tankard, closed my eyes, and concentrated on making it disappear into my inventory. I felt a sudden lightness in my hand. Opening my eyes, I saw that the tankard had vanished. I repeated the process with another tankard, this time keeping my eyes open, and watched it fade from sight. Once again, I closed my eyes and focused on the tankards, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I realised I now had 'Tankard (2)' at my disposal.

Not only that, but I could sense the direction of North, even in this enclosed space. My quest to 'Escape Helgen' and the sub-goal 'Follow Ralof' were engraved in my mind, and I could unnaturally sense Ralof's presence behind me. I attempted to summon a tankard into my hand, and it appeared effortlessly.

"This one's locked. Let's see about that gate," Ralof announced.

Re-depositing the tankard. I led Daenerys over to a hidden space near the gate and crouched down, preparing myself for what lay ahead.

"Damn. No way to open this from our side," Ralof muttered.

"Come on, soldier. Keep moving!" I heard Captain Arse's voice echo from down the corridor.

"It's the Imperials! Take cover!" Ralof whispered urgently–failing to note we already are.

"Get this gate open!" the Captain ordered. A lever was pulled, and the gate swung open, allowing the Captain to waltz in. I readied my Nord racial trait.

"Imperial dogs!" Ralof roared as he charged at the nearest soldier.

"ARGHHH!" I yelled, unleashing my Nordic trait to instil fear in our enemies and bolster my allies. I rushed the Captain, swinging my axe at her neck. She raised her sword, but her movement was clumsy, a flinch betraying her fear. My axe met flesh, slicing through her neck. She stumbled back, dropping her sword as blood poured from the wound. Without hesitation, I grabbed her sword and stabbed her through the neck and into her brain, not wanting to witness her slow demise. She may have condemned Daenerys and me to death, but I had no desire to watch her bleed out.

I quickly stripped her of her equipment, mentally cataloguing my spoils. I took her breastplate and helmet before moving over to Daenerys. "You doing all right?" I asked, strapping the breastplate onto her and placing the helmet on her head. The armour was a bit large for her slender frame.

"I'll be fine, Ovhun," she replied, her voice steadier now. I sensed she was beginning to snap out of her shock. I would need to have a serious talk with her on the way to Riverwood about what was at stake and the opportunities that lay ahead. For now, I handed her my axe and tore a strip of blue fabric from my own attire, wrapping it around her neck.

"Hopefully that'll stop anyone from mistaking you for an Imperial," I said with a smile. "Stick to the back and only engage when absolutely necessary." She would need to learn to fight soon if she wanted to survive in this world, but for now, this first leg of our journey would be manageable.

I returned to the bodies, collecting everything I could find and adding it to my inventory. "Did you find a key? See if it unlocks that door," Ralof instructed.

I walked over to the locked door, successfully unlocked it, and opened it to reveal a winding staircase leading down. "That's it! Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads," Ralof urged, tempting fate as we rushed down the stairs, the muffled roar of the dragon echoing behind us.

"Look out!" Ralof shouted as part of the ceiling collapsed, blocking our path forward.

"Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy," Ralof grumbled.

We heard muffled voices from the other side of the door to our left—Imperials discussing their next move. Ralof and I exchanged a glance before I opened the door and snuck inside, Ralof following closely behind. We crept up on a group of Imperials searching for supplies.

"FOR ULFRIC AND SKYRIM!" Ralof yelled, charging into the fray.

"The prisoners are escaping!" one of the Imperials shouted, readying their blades to meet our ambush.

Ralof engaged what I presumed was another Captain, while I faced off against a regular soldier. This fight was tougher; they were prepared for us. I swung clumsily but with strength, my blows blocked by my opponent. He swung back, and I managed to evade most of the attack, but not before taking a cut to my bicep. That was all the motivation I needed to kick into high gear. I swung again, my predictable blow rattling him, and seized the opportunity to kick him hard in the knee, dropping him to the ground. I followed up with a swift cut to his head, severing it cleanly.

I quickly looked away from the gruesome sight to check on Ralof's fight, not wanting to witness the gushing blood. I couldn't believe I was thinking this, but at least it was only in my mind—and I would never say it out loud—but this was all so uncivilised and barbaric.

Ralof executed a clean spin, burying his axe into the Captain's head.

I glanced over to check on Daenerys and saw her gripping her axe with a frustrated expression. She was probably feeling useless, which I couldn't blame her for; she kind of was right now. But if my hunch about our future was correct, I would eventually be the one feeling useless.

Ralof sighed and looked around. "A storeroom. See if you can find any potions. We'll need them."

"Way ahead of you, Ralof," I replied, heading to gather whatever potions I could find, shoving them into my inventory.

"I've got no idea how you're doing that, but we've got more to focus on right now," Ralof said, watching as items disappeared at my touch, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. Heh, the least magic-hating Nord in Tamriel.

As I rummaged through a barrel, collecting some food supplies just in case, I felt a hand touch my left arm.

"You're hurt," Daenerys observed, her gaze fixed on the deep cut on my arm.

"Ah, I almost forgot about that. Hold on, I'll fix it," I said, bringing my left hand up, closing my eyes, and digging deep to call upon the healing spell lying dormant within me. A brilliant golden glow erupted from my hand, flowing over my wound until it closed completely. A quick wipe with a rag revealed barely a mark—just fresh flesh that would fade in time.

Daenerys's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she let out a small, "Wow," under her breath.

"Hmm, it's just a basic healing spell," I downplayed, for I knew there were far crazier magical phenomena we would encounter in the future. Even in the next room, we would begin to prove that point.

I continued my pillaging, not forgetting to loot the fallen soldiers. I also grabbed two bedrolls, a sturdy pot, and some plates and cutlery. We would be doing a lot of camping in the future, that much was certain.

"Done? Let's get moving," Ralof said, noting that I had finished my scavenging spree.

We headed through a series of rooms until we reached an iron door.

"Troll's blood! It's a torture room," Ralof cursed as we heard sounds of struggle and fighting from within.

"Hear that? Come on!" Ralof charged in recklessly.

What we found was a small group of Stormcloaks engaged in battle with Imperials. I moved to aid them, instinctively targeting the robed figure first—always a good rule of thumb in a fantasy world.

I swung my sword at him, but he dodged quickly.

"Enough… of this!" he spat, unleashing a fire attack at me. I dove to evade it, but I heard a panicked feminine yell behind me. Glancing back, I saw that Daenerys was right behind me—just as I had asked her to be, being bathed in flames.

I rushed forward, jamming my sword into the robed man's chest and pulling it out as he fell dead.

I looked back to see Daenerys staring at her raised arms in relief, unharmed by the flames. I guess she could still sleep in fire. That was a relief.

Turning back, I jumped into a fight between a Stormcloak and an Imperial soldier, both locked in combat. I took a slice at the man's knees; he grunted and fell, allowing the Stormcloak to deliver the fatal blow to the Imperial.

As the battle came to an end, I noted that there were two extra Stormcloaks instead of the usual two. If I recalled correctly, this boded well for the final confrontation against the Imperials.

I began looting as Ralof asked the Stormcloaks if they had seen Ulfric.

I grabbed some lockpicks just as Ralof approached a cage. "Wait a second. Looks like there's something in this cage.

"It's locked. See if you can get it open with some picks. We might need that gold once we get out," he suggested.

"Grab anything useful and let's go," he added.

"Already on it, Ralof," I said, rolling my eyes. It was as if he hadn't seen me scavenge everything in sight like a Goblin. If I could have stopped to loot things while we headed to the keep during the attack, no loot would have gone unplundered.

I moved over to the lock, grateful for my experience with modern locks. This should be a walk in the park. The tools were a bit corroded, but with some finagling, I got the pins into place and pulled the door open. Inside, I found mages' robes, gold, and a magic tome on the basics of lightning magic titled 'Sparks.'

Afterwards, I took out a shield and prepared to move onward with Ralof. "Are you all right?" I asked Daenerys.

"Yeah, I just didn't expect it," she replied, glancing at her slightly crispy leather and cloth attire. Her skin remained flawless, and even her hair was unscathed.

I nodded at her and advised, "Take cover during our next encounter." The last thing I wanted was an unlucky arrow to take her down.

We moved through a series of cells, some empty and others containing skeletons.

As we continued down the corridor, we passed a room with cages hanging from the ceiling. I rummaged through them and found a few more gold pieces. Was there really only gold coins in this world? Not even a hint of silver? There must be some incredible gold mines dotted throughout Tamriel.

Continuing on, we moved through an opening in the wall that likely served as a secret exit, leading us into a cave system. As we descended into the subterranean darkness, I could hear the muffled voices of Imperials discussing their next move.

"Stormcloaks! Filthy traitors!" one of the Imperials shouted as he spotted our group, drawing his weapon. There were five enemies in total: two Imperials preparing to fire arrows at us and three charging in for melee combat.

I quickly assessed the situation and positioned myself so the man wielding a Warhammer is between the archers. He swung at me with a clumsy strike, and I raised my shield to meet it. He seemed to put more power into his swing, likely hoping to stagger me. Just as the hammer was about to connect, I ducked to the side, allowing his momentum to carry him forward. I seized the opportunity and drove my sword into the back of his neck, dropping him instantly.

I glanced over at the archers just in time to see an arrow flying toward me. I raised my shield, and the arrow embedded itself into the wood with a thud. Without hesitation, I charged toward the archers, diverting their attention from my allies. One of them foolishly attempted to nock another arrow too close, and he paid for it with his life.

The second archer dropped his bow and drew a short sword, charging at me with a battle cry. I parried his attack, feeling a surge of confidence as my swordplay improved at an unnatural rate. I shield-bashed him, the impact rattling him, and prepared for a lunging stab into his chest. I put more force into the thrust than necessary, just in case he had chainmail hidden beneath his light armor. To my relief, he didn't, and my sword sank to the hilt.

He let out a brutal grunt, his eyes wide with terror as he gasped for breath. "We'll toast to our battle in Sovngarde, kinsman," saying the first thing I could think of, trying to offer some comfort. He scrunched his eyes closed, and I yanked my sword free before quickly decapitating him.

Letting out a weary sigh, I turned to see the Stormcloaks finishing their side of the battle. We had lost one, but the rest seemed to be holding up well. I spotted Daenerys emerging from her hiding place, her eyes darting around as she searched for me. I raised my sword in a gesture of reassurance, and she made her way over as I began to loot the fallen soldiers.

I stowed my shield in my inventory and picked up two bows along with all the arrows I could find, depositing them into my own supplies. I then gathered other equipment and gold from the surrounding bodies.

Daenerys approached, and I greeted her with a light-hearted question. "You got an irrational fear of spiders?"

She looked caught off guard by my sudden inquiry, but then a smile crept onto her face. "Not beyond a healthy amount," she replied, her tone lightening.

"Good. We're in the home stretch now, and we're almost out of here," I said, feeling a surge of optimism.

"Let's go on ahead. See if the way is clear," Ralof suggested. I quickly contemplated denying him and waiting for the others, knowing what was likely to come. But I decided against it. Let the story play out, I thought.

We moved through the cave and came upon a drop bridge with a lever.

"Let's see where this goes," said the Stormcloaks as he pulled the lever, and the bridge dropped into place.

We all moved across it, but just as we did, rocks from the ceiling began to fall, collapsing the bridge behind us and cutting us off from our comrades.

I stowed my shield and sword, taking out my bow and knocking an arrow. "No going back that way now," Ralof stated the obvious. "We'd better push on. The rest of them will have to find another way out."

We pressed forward and came across a skeleton clutching some gold, which I quickly snatched up.

Continuing down the passage, I took the lead and crouched down, signalling to those behind me that enemies were ahead. As I stepped forward and assessed the situation, I spotted giant spiders lurking in the shadows. I heard Daenerys let out a disgusted noise behind me. I couldn't blame her; they were grotesque creatures. There was no way these things had evolved without feasting on humans—or people, to be more accurate—en masse.

That said, half the species in this world could probably be traced back to some god thinking they'd make a cool addition to the ecosystem. But in this case, there was no doubt that only a Daedra could be responsible for these unholy spiders.

At the last moment, I decided to drop my arrow and take out a handful from my quiver, laying them down in front of me before nocking one in my bow. I lifted it, aiming generally in their direction, pulled back the arrow, made a last-minute adjustment, and finally released it. The arrow struck one of the spider's many legs, and I had to suppress a victory dance. Not a direct hit, but for my first shot with a bow, I was ecstatic.

The spiders were alerted to our presence, but before they could react, Ralof fired an arrow that struck one in the head, killing it instantly. Show-off.

I quickly resumed firing, missing my next shot but nailing the one after that. With Ralof's help, we took down four spiders, injured one, while one remained unharmed. I stowed my bow back in my inventory and readied my shield and sword to meet the remaining creature's approach.

The closest spider spat corrosive venom at me, but I blocked it with my shield, hearing it sizzle against the metal and wood. "Die, foul creature!" I yelled as I lunged my sword into its eye, killing it instantly.

"AGHH!" I heard Ralof shout as he jumped and slammed his axe into another spider's head.

I let out a relieved sigh as the small battle came to an end. I chose not to harvest potion ingredients from the spiders; stabbing one had been too close for comfort as it was. Thanks, but no thanks—I'd just buy anti-venom and poisons from a shop later.

"I hate those damn things. Too many eyes, you know?" Ralof remarked, shaking his head.

I grunted in agreement, and Daenerys chimed in, "I've never seen anything like it… are there any other giant monsters I should know about?" Her disgust was evident.

"Trolls," I replied.

"Skeevers—rats the size of dogs," Ralof added.

"Mudcrabs—like big crabs," I continued.

"Slaughterfish," Ralof interjected.

"The Chaurus are like giant scorpions, kind of," I added.

"Giants!" Ralof exclaimed.

"The giants can be chill if you're not aggressive. I've heard people even trade with them. Frost giants, though…" I trailed off.

Ralof nodded in agreement. "Sabercats," he continued.

"Okay, I get it. There are a lot of them," Daenerys interrupted, exasperated.

"That's not even half of the dangers out there. You'll see," I said, smiling excitedly at her. She returned a look that suggested I was crazy. What? It was going to be a wild adventure!

"Let's continue on," Daenerys said, her resolve returning.

"As the lass says. We should find a way out of here soon," Ralof agreed as we moved through another tunnel.

We came upon a massive opening, and Ralof, who had taken point this time, called back, "Hold up. There's a bear just ahead. See her?

"I'd rather not tangle with her right now. Let's try to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step," Ralof advised. After a moment's thought, he added, "Or, if you're feeling lucky, you can use a bow. Might take her by surprise." He finished with a nod. "Go ahead. I'll follow your lead and watch your back."

I crept toward a nearby cart, grabbing a bow and arrows, pocketing a bag of gold I found there. I handed the bow and arrows to Daenerys and took out my own, moving within fifteen meters of the beast before nocking an arrow. I glanced back at the others, who followed my lead. I nodded at Daenerys; she looked a bit overwhelmed—this might be her first time using a bow. She pulled the arrow back and released it, hitting the bear's leg.

"Not bad," I murmured, impressed over the bears roar of pain. I loosed my own arrow alongside Ralof's, both landing in the bear's neck and head, killing it instantly.

"Sneaking is overrated, eh?" Ralof said with a smile, clearly pleased with our teamwork.

He spotted the opening ahead and called victoriously, "That looks like the way out! I knew we'd make it!" He rushed toward the exit.

I turned to Daenerys, smiling at our achievement of not dying. For the first time, she smiled back, relief washing over her as she realised this nightmare was finally coming to an end.