A changeling's visit to Skyrim

Stross was a changeling much like any other. He spent most days disguised as a pony hanging out among the other ponies in Equestria and feeding off them when he was hungry. They just had so much of it, and it was incredibly easy to get them to part with it, when they thought he was a pony at least.

It wasn’t until the invasion of Canterlot that things got harder on him. Stross didn’t take part in it of course, invading always seemed so blunt and ruthless. He preferred a more subtle take on things. Even so, every guard, in every city was looking for him and his foolish brethren now, which made his job all the more difficult.

...

It was a calm and peaceful day when it happened, and Stross didn’t know what went wrong. All he remembered was finding a young mare all alone, walking over to her, and asking her if she’d like to get some lunch. The rest of the afternoon passed in sort of a blur, but ended in him being chased through the streets; half the towns guards on his tail.

“Shit shit shit shit, shit!” Stross cursed to himself as he tore around a corner and into the crowded market street. “Why does everything have to go so wrong?” He asked to no one as he dove behind an empty stand and assumed a random disguise.

“These ponies are crazy nowadays- ugk!”

When Stross looked up to see who he had bumped into, he was shocked to see a stallion that looked exactly like the form he had just taken, right when the platoon of armed guards rounded the corner and surrounded them.

“Stop right there criminal scum!”

Stross knew he was in trouble, but if he could somehow trick the guards into believing the other pony was the changeling and not him, he could-

“Alright I confess!”

“Wait what?” Stross asked.

"Wait, what?" a couple of guards echoed his words, equally confused.

“Here’s the money I took!” the stallion dumped out his saddlebags, the golden coins falling to the ground “I only took it because he owed me the money anyway. I didn’t think he would mind!” he yelled out between sobs.

The guards and even several bystanders gave a questioning look at each other.

“Umm… sir?” one of the guards reached over.

“Y- yes?” the stallion chocked out.

“We were actually looking for the changeling over there.” the guard pointed to empty air, before doing a double-take.

“Foal of a-

Stross had slipped away several moments ago, and was now in a new form, running as fast as his legs could carry him in any other direction.

“That was way too close!” He thought to himself “I need to get out of here! If only I had a faste-“ he stopped mid-thought as a new revelation came to him. “Wait a minute, I know magic!”

Stross dropped his disguise and began charging power into his horn, weaving it into a spell.

“I just need to teleport to somewhere far away and-“

Before he could finish, a lavender unicorn bumped into him, unable to see where she was going due to her book.

There was a huge green flash as Stross lost his focus, and overcharged his spell. In less than a millisecond, he was gone. The unicorn blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. Picking up her book again, she continued on her way.

Meanwhile, in a galaxy far, far away… (wrong intro sequence!)

Oh, sorry.

Meanwhile, beyond the frozen tundra… in the homeland of the nords. Where radiant stories bloom and you can dual-wield magic and swords! (There we go)

Anyway, that’s where Stross ended up after his teleportation spell went amiss. Face down in the dirt, he took a moment to get his bearings… then another… and another… it actually took him about four full minutes to pull himself up and get a look around.

“Ow my head.” he groaned “What happened, and -He paused to look at his hooves- “What happened to my body?”

Stross was indeed different from what he was used to. He still had his horn and insectile wings, his skin was still hard and chitinous, and his limbs were still corroded and full of holes. But instead of ending in stumps, his legs now had five smaller appendages on the ends; fingers. Stross had been a griffon once or twice, so the fingers he could get used to. But what he had never tried before was a bipedal form like the one he now possessed.

Summoning his magic and trying to change back to his normal shape yielded no results and only left him with a throbbing headache.

“Well that was pointless.” Stross sighed as he looked around for any indication as to where he was.

He found himself standing on an overgrown dirt path. Seeing no better alternative, he decided to follow it. Slowly, carefully, and with more than a few stumbles and face-plants, he made it to a larger, more traveled road. He heard a number of hoofsteps from his right. Taking cover in the dense foliage, he waited.

Soon, the source of the noise showed itself. More than a dozen large figures in blue chainmail, riding absolutely enormous steeds, made their way down the road. As they passed, Stross noticed the giant swords and axes they carried, as well as their shields with blue bear insignias.

“Whoever they are, they’re packing a ton of steel.” Stross thought to himself as they passed “One thing’s for sure; I’m not in Equestria anymore. Maybe I can ask them for directions.”

Suddenly, a shout came from the forest in front of the group, dozens more of the strange bipedal creatures burst out of the undergrowth, bows and arrows poised and ready to fire. Battle-cries and shouts of distress echoed throughout the ranks until a thunderous voice silenced them all.

“ENOUGH!” it bellowed “Hold where you are my brothers, we are outnumbered.”

“What would you have us do Ulfric?” another voice asked.

There was a pause.

“Stand down and surrender yourselves. There is no need for more bloodshed; not among our own.”

“A wise choice Jarl Ulfric.” a third voice joined in.

“-even if our own are a bunch of elf-loving traitors.”

“Enough! Take them into custody, and gag this one.”

Stross was starting to feel a bit nervous as he watched from his hiding place. Intrigued as he was, he felt a bit too close to the action. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Got another over here!”

Stross whipped his head around just in time to see the sword handle collide with his face before falling into darkness.

Stross awoke in a familiar setting; one he knew would surely mean death for him. Looking at the bleak stone walls of his cell and ignoring the pounding in his head, he struggled into a sitting position. Saying there wasn't much to the cell was being generous. At best it was a stone box with a wooden-frame bed in it.

“Sheesh, even the prisons in Equestria are better than this.” He thought as he looked for a way out. “No windows; and judging by how dark it is I’m probably underground.”

“Perfect.” Stross sighed as he walked over to the bars.

It was only as he took the first step that he felt something drag at his left ankle. Looking down he spotted the cause; a chain had him shackled to the floor.

“Hmm, so they feel like giving me a challenge, do they?”

He tried to gather energy into his horn for a spell to cut though the chain, a glow slowly grew stronger as he focused. But before he could muster the strength to complete it, the spell fizzled and Stross fell to the floor, panting for breath.

“Damn, how long have I been out? How long since I last fed?”

With his magic a no-go, he grasped the bars and pulled himself up. Looking out of his cell for the first time he saw another row across from his, each occupied by one of those big fleshy creatures he had seen before. As he tried to get a closer look he felt his head pop through the vertical bars. Quickly pulling himself back out, an idea occurred to him. Deciding to test his theory, he turned to his side and tried to squeeze through the cell door. With a lot of pushing, jerking, and discomfort, he managed to get his entire body through the bars and to the other side before the chain around his ankle impeded any further progress.

“Damn this thing, if I had my magic you’d be molten dust right now.” he mentally cursed as he pulled fruitlessly at the chain.

Before he could find out if he could chew off his own leg, a voice got his attention.

“You’ll need to do a lot more than that to break out of our prisons, bug.” an imperial guardsman told him passively before turning to his friend. “Get the others ready for transport to Helgen, I’ll take care of this one.” he said, lightly pounding his fists together.

“Eep”

When Stross awoke, he found he was on a wooden cart, seated next to four other prisoners. Two wearing the blue chainmail he’d seen when he first arrived. None of them talked much, though they gave him strange glances every now and then. Each cart following in line along a path through the mountains, that was how it stayed for the next couple of hours until the fifth member of their wagon-group woke up.

Stross had noticed it first when she woke, mostly because he’d been watching her for most of the ride. She was different than the rest of them, her entire body was much more slender than theirs, definitely female. Most notably though was her face, it was longer that most others he’d seen, with pointed ears that poked out under her long silver hair, and large black eyes with a shade of deep amber to them.

Stross secretly wished she had woken up sooner. Partly so he might have someone to talk to, and partly so she wouldn't have missed the amazing view as they climbed over the mountains. All there was to look at now were trees, rocks, and some snow.

“So… finally awake I see.” a man in blue chainmail spoke up. “You tried to cross the border when you were caught in that Imperial ambush, right? Same as us, and those two over there; the horse thief and the bug.”

“Damn you Stormcloaks.” the thief chimed in, clearly angry with his predicament “Skyrim was fine until you came along; the empire was nice and lazy around these parts. If it weren’t for you I could have been halfway to Hammerfell by now.” he seethed.

“Skyrim? Hammerfell? I never even heard of those places, anywhere. Am I even in my own world anymore?”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” The Stormcloak spat back.

The man next to Stross tried to grunt something through his gag.

“What’s up with him?” the horse thief asked “did he try to bite them or something?”

“Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!” the Stormcloak scolded.

“High king?”

“Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm? Leader of the rebellion? But if they’ve captured you, where are they taking us?” The thief asked, fear now entering his voice.

“Where do you think? End of the line.” the Stormcloak answered solemnly.

“So there’s a civil war going on; sounds pretty serious if they’re willing to execute anyone even remotely involved.”

“You can’t be serious! They can’t do that, I wasn’t even with you!” the thief yelled in disbelief.

“Shut up back there.” the driver of the cart uncaringly threw back.

The wagon train began entering a small village. As they passed through the gate and got a look at the buildings, the Stormcloaks’ eyes sparkled with memory.

“This is Helgen.” he told them “I used to be sweet on a girl from here; would visit whenever I got the chance. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper-berries mixed in.” he looked away, possibly hiding tears “It’s funny, you know? When I was a small boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe. How times have changed.”

Stross looked around; unsurprisingly he saw that most of the townspeople had come to watch the execution. Save for a few, like the children who were being led back inside.

“Hey, what village are you from horse thief?” the Stormcloak asked.

“Roriksted… I- I’m from Roriksted. Why do you care?”

“A nords last thoughts should be of home. Anyone’s last thoughts should be of home.” he answered “You, wood-elf. Where are you from?”

“I was visiting a friend in Elsweyr.” She told them, her voice like music and soft grass “I was heading back to my home in High rock… and now I’m here.”

She had obviously caught Stross staring at her, and had stared back in return. Stross didn’t mind though, he liked looking at her eyes.

“So where are you from?”

He was startled out of his staring by her question.

“I umm… I’m from the Duna-mar badlands, outside southern Equestria.” he stuttered out in his scratchy voice “Why did I just tell her that?”

“So, the bug can talk.” noted the Stormcloak.

The wagons reached their stop at the end of the town. All the way the horse thief had been praying to several deities to save him. On the way they had passed a military official on a horse talking to some pointy-eared people in pitch black robes; the Stormcloak identified them as General Tullius and the Thalmor, muttering something at the end about “damn elves” and “I bet they had something to do with this”. The elf riding with them shot him a glare when he said that.

When they dismounted the wagon with the rest of the prisoners, an imperial soldier with a book began reading names as they stepped forward.

“Ulfic Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm”

The man with the gag stepped forward.

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

The Stormcloak soldier stepped forward with a look of resentment towards the imperial.

“Lokir of Roriksted”

“NO! We’re NOT rebels, you can’t do this!”

At this point Stross had spotted the executioner near the block, sharpening his axe. He realized that while his hands were bound, his feet were free now. He considered making a run for it while the thief argued with the imperial guardsmen. But the thief beat him to it, and was now sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him yelling “You’re not going to kill me you imperial scum!”

He didn’t get far before the captain signaled to the archers. One arrow hit him in the thigh, another in the small of his back, and a final one drilled him through the back of his skull. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Anyone else feel like running?” the guard captain threatened. “Then get on with the list!”

“Well… looks like I’m not running for it after all. Poor guy.”

“You there, step forward.” the guardsman continued “Wait, who… are you?”

“Fenora Tandis, herb farmer of High rock.” she told him.

“Captain, what do we do? She’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list,” the captain ordered “she was caught with the Stormcloaks, she goes to the block!”

“By the swarm, these imperials are  worse than the ponies even AFTER we invaded.”

And it was true, even after the invasion of Canterlot had been repelled, the ponies made no attempt the hunt them down. Only those changelings foolish or desperate enough to threaten them again were ever harmed. But these imperials just killed anyone they felt like, on even the suspicion of working with the rebellion. It was small wonder why there was a rebellion to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” he told her “we’ll make sure your remains are delivered back to High rock.”

“Elsweyr, have them send me to Elsweyr.”

“Very well, next.”

When Fenora stepped out of the way the guardsman finally spotted Stross, and didn’t know what to make of him. To him he looked something of a cross between an argonian and a mudcrab.

“Umm… captain?”

“Oh what fresh Oblivion is this?” The captain asked rhetorically.

“What do we-“

“I don’t care what that abomination is, send it to the block!”

“Bitch.”

Tullius and Ulfric had a quick, one-sided conversation in which Tullius denounced Ulfrics’ title as a hero of the nords, for using “the voice” to murder his own king. At which, Ulfric could only grunt angrily though his gag.

As the execution ceremony began, a priest walked up to the block and began a paryer.

“As we commend your souls to Etherius, blessings of the eight divines be upon you, may you-

She was quickly interrupted when a Stormcloak soldier pushed his way up to the block.

“How DARE you!? I’ll not have you slander our beliefs the moment before you sentence me, and my brothers and sisters to death!” he shouted “So for the love of Talos, shut up, and let’s get this over with!”

“As you wish.” The priestess hissed before stepping down.

The Stormcloak walked over and knelt down at the block. “My ancestors are smiling at me imperials, can you say the same?” Were his last words before the headsman raised his massive axe and cleanly severed his head.

“Murderers!”

“You imperial bastards!” his comrades yelled out as his body was kicked aside.

“Next, the wood-elf!” the captain ordered.

“No, no, not her.”

Stross frantically looked around for a way to save Fenora as she was escorted to the block.

“Oh no, you bastards aren’t getting her.” Stross thought as he gathered his magic at the tip of his horn. “Come on, just enough for a stun spell, or a flash-bang spell… something.”

It was no use; Stross was still too drained to cast anything. His mind raced through possibilities as Fenora knelt down at the block.

“I could maybe grab one of their swords. Take the axe and fight them off. Or just charge over to grab her and we run for it, she could even use me as a shield. Dammit think!”

But fate had a mind of its’ own that day, and the sky was covered in clouds as a dragon, yes a dragon, as black as the night sky with piercing red eyes, descended into the village.

“What in Oblivion is that?!” general Tullius yelled.

“Sentries, do you have a bead on it?” the captain yelled.

“It’s in the clouds!”

“No it’s not! It’s right there on that tower you idiots, shoot it!”

Suddenly the dragon shouted, and a thunderclap erupted from its mouth. A rain of fire fell from the sky as it took to the air, breathing fire upon all those below. It was safe to say the execution had been put on hold.

As the dragon set the village aflame, the guards tried to get the townspeople to safety while the Stormcloak prisoners fled for their lives, Stross had one other thing on his mind; saving Fenora. He didn’t know why he cared so much for her, especially when they had literally just met; maybe it was because he was hungry, but he didn’t think about it too much as he dragged her to safety with his teeth.

“Fenora, get up!” he shook her out of her daze “We have to get out of here before the whole village burns down around us!”

“One of the soldiers said there was a way out through the keep, we should try to join them.”

“The ones that just tried to kill us?” he questioned like Fenora was insane.

“Do you have a better plan?” she countered.

“Well… no.”

“Then the keep it is.”Fenora grabbed onto him and pulled him over to the outer wall of the fortress.

They made their way along to the entrance, staying close to the wall to avoid the fire. All around them was chaos as the imperial mages and archers attempted to bring the dragon down with only their longbows and spells. They may as well have been firing toothpicks and spitwads as the dragon body-slammed into yet another house, sending debris and timbers everywhere.

When they reached the front door of the keep, they witnessed an argument between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks.

“Ralof, you damned traitor. Out of our way!”

“We’re escaping too Hadvar, you can’t stop us this time.”

“We’ll see about that, have at it!” Hadvar yelled as he drew his sword.

Ralof responded in kind. But both were interrupted when the dragon torpedoed into the ground, plowing through it with its massive talons. The Stormcloaks and Imperials barely had any time to dodge. Even then, some were not so lucky. Those caught by the dragon were dragged into the sky along with it, and thrown into the distance.

“I can see my house from here!” one yelled as he was flung “It’s on fire!”

“We don’t have time for this, get in the keep!” Ulfric yelled to those remaining.

They quickly scrambled and shoved their way into the keep. Stross and Fenora were too late however, as a giant slab of flaming rock blocked their access before they could get through.

“Great, what now?” Fenora asked.

Stross quickly looked around, trying to find an alternate means of escape.

“Over there!” He yelled as he ran to a gate across from the keep's entrance. “Help me get this open.”

With a great amount of effort, mostly from Fenora, the managed to pry the gate open enough to get through. As they stepped through, the spot where they were just standing a moment before exploded into flame. The dragon had spotted them and was now gunning them down.

“RUN!” Stross yelled.

“Forget that, ride!” Fenora called back as she pushed a delivery wagon onto the road and hoped on the back “Get in.”

Stross caught up and grabbed her hand. Fenora quickly pulled him onboard while the gate behind them was destroyed as a six ton dragon smashed through it and took off into the sky, leaving several dozen dead, and a burning wreck of a town behind him.