You wake up and gaze around blearily. You notice that you're in a cart and the road is rocky. It's seems that the stallion sitting across from you has his front hooves bound and his back hooves in a strange position, providing limited movement. It seems you too are in this position. An attempt to shake out proves unsuccessful. The stallion across from you notices the sudden movement. "Hey, you," he says. Your ears perk up. This stallion looks at peace with himself, despite being a prisoner- which seems to be what you are now. His blonde mane waves in the wind. "You're finally awake. Trying to cross the border, I see. Walked right into that Imperial ambush." His tone shows no fear, only calm and maturity. "Same as us, and that thief over there."
"Damn you Stormhooved. Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy, but they had to be looking for you. I'd have stolen those jewels and been halfway to Hammerfell." His attention turns to you. "You there, you and me. We shouldn't be here! It's these Stormhooved the Empire wants." You shift uncomfortably, not wanting to side with this irreverent fellow.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, Thief," replies the stallion, calmly.
"Shut up back there!" interjects an Imperial.
The thief looks over to the stallion in the back. You notice that his mouth is also bound. "What's wrong with him, huh?" says the thief in a snarky tone.
The blonde stallion finally takes offense. "Watch your tongue," he snaps. "You're talking to Stormy Hoof, the true High King."
"Stormy Hoof?" the thief says, confused. "The jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." His eyes widen in fear at a certain realization. "But if they captured you- oh Goddesses, where are they taking us!?"
The stallion across from you offers a small smile. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."
"No. This can't be happening. This isn't happening!" The thief's tone grows more and more frantic.
The blonde stallion looks over to him, his smile more of a grimace. "Hey. What village are you from, Jewel Thief?"
"Why do you care?" is the cold-shouldered response.
"A Nord's last thought should be of home." Are you a Nord? Everything still seems to be fuzzy. Faint images of a hearth flicker in your mind's eye, but that is all you can muster.
"Rorikstrot," says the thief. "I'm- I'm from Rorikstrot." The thief seems more peaceful for a moment, calmer.
"General Jeweled Lance sir!" calls out an Imperial, interrupting the thief's moment of self-reflection. "The headsman is waiting!"
"Good," responds Lance. "Let's get this over with." The thief starts naming deities fervently and sending prayers. The blonde stallion looks upon General Lance and the Aldmeri unicorns in disgust.
"I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Warm Mug is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He looked around some more, shaking his head. "Funny, when I was a colt, Imperial walls and towers would make me feel so safe." A young colt gawks at you and asks where you're going. His father shoos him back. You try to remember what it was like when you were a foal, but remember no personal details about yourself. The colt, indignant, continues to look on. He seems to admire the soldiers.
The cart begins to slow down. "Why are we stopping?" asks the thief.
"What do you think?" replies the blonde stallion. "End of the line. Let's go, shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."
The thief's composition begins to erode as you unload from the cart. "No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The blonde stallion smirks.
"Face your death with some courage, thief."
"You've got to tell 'em! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The Imperial captain orders you all to the chopping block. The blonde stallion sighs.
One Imperial begins to read off of the list. "Stormy Hoof, Jarl of Windhelm."
"It has been an honor, Jarl!" the stallion says.
"Windy Axe of Riverwood." He walks up with dignity and heads to the block. "Sticky Hooves of Rorikstrot."
"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" he says. He bolts away, cries of protest ringing through the air. An Imperial calls for archers. You feel like you could have been friends in better circumstances.
Once Sticky is shot down, the Imperial turns back. "Anyone else feel like running?" she says snarkily.
The other Imperial looks at you straight in the eyes. "Wait. You there. Step forward." You walk towards him. "Who are you?" he asks.
Who are you? The question reverberates in your head. What's your gender?
Male or Female?
What's your race?
Earth Pony, unicorn or pegasi?
...
Which one are you?