I woke up inside my friend's video game

The cold wind of Solitude bit at my skin as I stepped onto the worn wooden platform of Castle Dour's training grounds. My boots echoed softly against the planks, the sound swallowed by the murmuring soldiers gathered before me. They were a mix of seasoned veterans and fresh recruits, their faces a blend of anticipation, fear, and something else—an uncertainty that only the truth could quell. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of my leather vest over the simple monk's robes I wore. My fists, rough and calloused, clenched and unclenched at my sides, the muscles in my forearms tightening instinctively.

I swept my gaze over the crowd, my ice-blue eyes locking onto theirs. The wind tugged at my grey-streaked hair, tied back in its usual ponytail, a few loose strands whipping against my face. The cold was biting, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing in Skyrim.

"Listen closely, all of you," I began, my voice cutting through the chill like a blade. The soldiers quieted, their attention locked on me. "The tale I'm about to tell isn't just history—it's the reason we stand on the brink of war."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the story in my chest. "Ulfric Stormcloak," I said, the name alone causing a ripple through the crowd. "Jarl of Windhelm. To some, a hero. To others, a murderer. But to all, a man who has shaped the fate of Skyrim."

A few soldiers shifted uneasily. I saw in their eyes the same doubts and questions that had plagued this land since Torygg's death. I stepped forward, my gaze hardening as I recounted the events that led us here.

"Before this war began, Ulfric was a man driven by one thing—his belief that Skyrim should be free from the Empire's grasp. He wasn't wrong to want that," I admitted, bitterness lacing my words. "The worship of Talos, one of our most revered Divines, was banned by the Empire—an affront to our very identity as Nords. And the Empire itself? Weak. Compromised by the Aldmeri Dominion, more concerned with keeping its power than with the people it swore to protect."

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "Ulfric believed he could change that. He challenged High King Torygg to a duel—a duel of the Thu'um, the Voice of the Dragonborn. In this duel, words aren't just words—they're weapons. And Ulfric's shout, his Thu'um, was powerful enough to take Torygg's life in a single breath."

There was a murmur among the soldiers, their faces a mix of awe and horror. I could see their minds turning, trying to reconcile the man they knew—or thought they knew—with the events I was describing.

"One shout, one word, and the High King of Skyrim was dead," I continued, my voice grim. "Ulfric didn't just kill a man that day—he tore the heart out of Skyrim. And in its place, he planted the seeds of war."

I let out a slow breath, the cold air stinging my lungs. "Some called him a hero, a man willing to do whatever it took to free Skyrim from the Empire's chains. Others saw him as a power-hungry tyrant who murdered his way to the top. But what you need to understand, what you all must grasp, is that this isn't just about one man's ambition. It's about the future of our people, our land."

The crowd was silent now, the gravity of the situation settling in. I knew I had to give them more—not just the facts, but the reality of what was to come.

"Ulfric Stormcloak was captured," I said, my voice quieter now, more intense. "And as we speak, he's being taken to Helgen, where the Empire intends to execute him. But don't think for a moment that his death will end this. His followers are many, and their cause won't die with him. This war is just beginning."

I scanned the faces before me, looking for the Thane of Solitude among them, but he wasn't there. A knot of worry tightened in my chest. I turned to Nikolai, the Thane's closest friend, who stood nearby, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Nikolai," I called out, stepping off the platform. "Where's Jayson? He should be here."

Nikolai met my gaze, his expression grim. "I overheard from one of his party members—they're headed to The Reach."

I nodded slowly, digesting the news. "We can't afford any more distractions. If the Thane is in The Reach, then we need to keep a close eye on the situation. But there's more," I added, lowering my voice.

Just then, Jordis, the housecarl of Jayson, approached us, her face pale and serious. She bowed respectfully before speaking. "Sir Skaldor, I bring urgent news from my Thane. The Dark Brotherhood… they've made a move."

A chill ran down my spine. The Dark Brotherhood was a shadow that loomed over us all, its reach long and its methods lethal.

"What have they done?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jordis handed me two letters, her hands trembling slightly. "We found this on an assassin's body. It's a—a list of targets. Some are Imperial."

I took the letter, breaking the seal swiftly. My eyes scanned the contents, and my heart sank. "This is bad," I muttered. "Very bad."

I looked up at Jordis, my expression hardening with resolve. "Get this to Jayson immediately. Tell him that your party must return to Solitude at once. We need to act quickly. We can't allow the Brotherhood to strike first."

Jordis nodded, determination replacing fear. "I'll be on my way, Sir Skaldor."

"Good," I replied, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "And Jordis… be careful. This message must arrive as quickly as possible."

As she hurried off with my letter, I turned back to the soldiers, their concern growing. "This war isn't just about swords and shouts," I said, my voice carrying new urgency. "It's about shadows and whispers, about enemies who strike from the darkness. We must be vigilant, strong, and united. If we let our guard down, even for a moment, it could be the end of us all."

I let my gaze sweep across the gathered soldiers one last time, feeling the weight of their expectations, their hopes, and their fears. "This is our land, our people, our fight. We stand together, or we fall. The choice is ours."

With that, I stepped down from the platform, the weight of the coming days heavy on my shoulders. I knew what lay ahead wouldn't be easy, but I also knew we had no choice but to face it—together.