Of Dragons and Thieves

by One Four Zero

1: Execution

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Author's Note:
This story is going to be treated as a malleable draft. While the entire plot has been mapped out, several edits may be made to chapters in order to fit newly established canon, fix errors, and generally make the story better. If any major changes are made to the plot, I will try to point them out.

Suggestions and criticisms are welcome and will be considered for new chapters and editing current ones.


Several thousand years ago, Earth was a very different place. War was commonplace, and people were quick to accept death, as hundreds were killed everyday. Interestingly, one of the most important wars of the time was between ponies themselves, or rather their ancestors.

The ponies of the time were split into two different races: elves and 'ponies'. They were lithe and small, and strong and large, respectively. Ponies, originating from the country of Equestria, sought to dominate the rebelling country of Skyrim while the elves of Skyrim fought back the invasion, trying to keep their independence.

The war was not as black-and-white as it seemed however, as members of both races fought for either side. In fact, the war was motivated more by a conflict between religions than between races, or countries.

The Celestial Legion and the Lunar Rebellion could not co-exist. Blood had to be shed.

Chapter One
Execution

The village of Hespith lay on the border between Equestria and Skyrim. It was a quiet place, inhabited by pony settlers from Equestria. They normally didn’t get much trouble, but recently had a bit of an influx of Celestial Legion troops passing through to Skyrim.

The innkeeper of the Hearth’s Fire was happy enough. He made his bit of coin from those staying the night. Some stayed for a few more, but they always moved on. One soldier, however, didn’t seem to want to do so. Troops passed by every day, but he never joined them. He looked around as if searching for some secret. The innkeeper wanted to know what exactly that secret might be.

“Listen,” the innkeeper said to his most recent customer, a young unicorn stallion, as he leaned in close over the bar, nodding to the soldier. The unicorn glanced at him quickly. He whispered suspiciously, “That Legion guard’s been pokin’ around here for a few days now. Don’t know what he’s looking for.”

“Maybe he’s looking for Rebel spies in your pots?” the unicorn half-joked, looking back to the innkeeper. Everyone knew how paranoid the Legion could get about the Rebels.

“I’d hope not,” the innkeeper sighed. He leaned in even further, knitting his brows together seriously. “You’re eh … a bit of an … opportunist, right?”

The unicorn smirked, crossing his elbows on the counter. “Did my clothing give it away?”

“Yes, the whole dark hood and deep pockets get-up might be a bit too obvious, in fact,” the innkeeper replied drily.

The thief only shook his head, unimpressed. “I’ve been on the run from the Legion for quite some time now,” he chuckled. “If I were ‘too obvious’ that guy would’ve had me strung up by now.”

“Right, well I’d like you to find out what this fellow’s up to, obviously. The Legion troops usually have their orders written down for them – some kind of authentication of command thing. You reckon you can find it out for me? I’ve got a few gold pieces set aside …”

The thief gave a sly look. “You distract him and I’ll have it done.”

So the innkeeper called the guard over to offer him a drink. The thief’s horn glowed to pull his hood over his head and he stepped away. The guard trotted towards the bar. The thief passed by him and took the orders in his teeth. He'd have to be quick. Unfolding the paper, he read the words quickly:

You are to investigate Hespith and its townsfolk for any connection to the three artifacts you have been briefed on. If you are questioned, tell them you have been assigned to guard them against Rebellion—

“Thievery is a serious crime, Dusk,” the guard rumbled. Looking up over his shoulder, Dusk now realised just how large this guard was. “And our orders are for our eyes only. You would know that, wouldn’t you?”

Dusk grinned hopefully. “Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for someone else, sir?”

The guard pulled out a flyer with Dusk’s face sketched on it. “I’m quite sure of it.” Then he retrieved a device from his saddlebag that made Dusk squirm.

The innkeeper looked on apologetically as the guard clipped the device around Dusk’s horn. It would stop him from using his magic. It made Dusk feel incredibly claustrophobic. The sensation was not unlike being unable to move one's legs.

“You’re quite the elusive one,” the guard said. He adopted a conversational tone. “Avoided us for months. Have to wonder why you would use one of our favoured routes into Skyrim though. Wanted to get away with passing right under our noses?”

Dusk made a weak laugh of defeat. He didn’t feel like making a sound at all. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well, I’m going to have to take you down to the camp near Helgen. Luckily we’ve got some carts coming through with some more prisoners today,” the guard explained, almost sounding bored. “General’s going to be very impressed when she finds out we’ve got you.”

Dusk could hardly listen to the other stallion. He had finally been caught. The feeling left him ill and struggling to stay standing straight. The guard didn’t take any notice and patted him down with a hoof, taking his dagger and all his possessions, stolen or not.

“Well, follow me then.”

Dusk glanced back one last time. The innkeeper looked away with a grim face.

***

Dusk awoke. The world was bumpy. He opened his eyes to find himself in a moving cart with two other prisoners of the Legion. Opposite of him was a dirty old buck who was staring at him quite strangely.

The old buck turned his head and spat over the side of the cart then quickly looked back to Dusk. “You gettin’ executed for Luna worship?” he asked, showing his rotten teeth.

Dusk raised a brow. “No. You practiced worship of Luna?” he asked curiously.

“Heh, well, I was originally locked up for stealin’ some bread for my family. In that cell I turned to Luna, and I prayed and prayed for her to get me outta here. Guards found out what I was doin’ an’ now I’m here,” he said. “Guess Luna was listenin’, huh?”

Dusk gave a non-committal nod. He hesitated before saying, “I, uh, don’t really get into that kind of stuff.”

The old buck squinted. “What you in this cart for?”

“Thievery,” Dusk replied simply. “The Legion hasn’t been too happy with the amount of their valuables that have gone missing.”

The old buck nodded in understanding. “You steal to help your family too?” he asked hopefully.

Dusk looked away. “No.”

The old buck seemed to lose interest at that point and took to staring at the landscape they were passing. The frozen trees of Skyrim were still. There was no breeze. The only thing that appeared to be moving was the cart with its prisoners.

Dusk looked to the right of the old buck. A small pegasus elf was tied to the cart a bit more tightly than the rest of them, and she was gagged. She was sobbing softly. Dusk could only feel sorry for her; she must have been just a little younger than he was. He had no idea what she may have done for the Legion to decide this fate for her. Maybe she tried to escape servitude.

“Quit your crying, knife-ear!” one of the Legion soldiers pulling the cart shouted over his shoulder. “If you don’t stop I swear I’ll come back there and beat it out of you!”

She sniffed quietly and held herself under control. Finally she met Dusk’s eyes. The golden orbs froze him still, shimmering with tears. Her eyes pleaded her innocence. Dusk felt his heart drop. She couldn’t have deserved this, but there was no way he could help her.

They were all slowly rolling to their deaths.

“Do you know what they’re accusing her of?” Dusk asked the old buck across from him, eager to break the silence.

The buck looked at her. “Dunno, but it can’t be good with how many ropes they got holdin’ her down.” His eyes widened suddenly with realisation. “I heard the Legion’s been huntin’ down them ‘dragonborns’! Of course! She must be gagged so she don’t use none o’ her dragon magics!”

Dusk frowned. “What are you on about? ‘Dragonborns’?”

“Y’know, them people that got the dragon cutie marks. Supposedly only elves and ponies can ever become ‘em. Somethin’ to do with magical cutie marks,” he rambled excitedly as a child would. “I saw one with my own eyes! He breathed fire at them Legion troops!”

The guard up front that had complained about the pegasus before turned his head again. “Shut the hell up before I gag you both as well!” he cried angrily. “You couldn’t have your heads chopped off sooner if you ask me!”

The other guard gave him a concerned look. “Lemons, you ought to calm down,” he said. “Shouting at the prisoners isn’t getting us to Helgen faster.”

Lemons relented with a snort. “Bloody elf-sympathisers …” he muttered.

The rest of the trip went on in silence. As they drew closer to their fate, Dusk couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster and faster. He drew slow, shaky breaths and stared at his hooves, willing himself to be stronger.

The gates of Helgen appeared.

Lemons’ companion glanced back a few times as they passed through the town. He seemed to be checking on the pegasus. The townsfolk stared quietly at the prisoners as they passed by, whispering among themselves. Their eyes followed Dusk's pale face with contempt quite clear. Whether they knew of his crimes or not, enemies of the Legion were not welcome here.

When the cart came to a stop the guards unstrapped themselves from it and headed around to escort the prisoners. Lemons came to Dusk’s side of the cart and untied him quickly, shoving him off. He fell onto his face painfully. “Get up!” Lemons barked, kicking him in the side. He grunted in pain and tried to get up despite his forehooves still being tied together.

The other guard took his time, carefully guiding the pegasus off the cart. She flinched whenever he touched her, but still he was patient. Lemons huffed and hopped up onto the cart, taking the old buck by the collar of his rags and pulling him out to land near Dusk.

“Might want to consider Luna now, boy,” he whispered. “Who knows how much time—ARGH!” Lemons kicked him hard as he did to Dusk. The buck sputtered blood, staining the snow.

Dusk could hear the pegasus choking back her tears. Her eyes were locked onto Lemons as if she expected him to hit her at any moment. Dusk thought that it wasn’t unreasonable to assume as much.

An earth pony mare equipped with a lavishly decorated set of Legion armour stepped up to inspect the prisoners. She stopped at Dusk, looking down on him struggling in the snow. “Is this the thief wanted so badly in Equestria?” she asked. Her voice was unfeeling.

Lemons looked more closely at Dusk, narrowing his eyes. “By Celestia! You’re right, General. The bastard who tried to make off with the Solar Medallion!” he exclaimed, giving Dusk another kick to the stomach.

The General hooked a leg under Dusk and pulled him up onto his legs. She pressed her face close to his. “Try to die with some dignity,” she growled. He stared back with wide eyes. She turned and walked away, and said softly, “May Celestia have mercy on your soul …”

The two guards untied the prisoners’ hooves and led them to a blood-spattered chopping block in the middle of town. The prisoners were made to line up by the platform. It was almost like a stage for a show. Several of the townsfolk gathered to watch what was to happen.

Lemons turned to his companion. “It’s your turn to read out the bloody names, Mahogany.” The pony nodded and stood before the crowd.

A pony wearing a dark cowl stepped up onto the platform. He brandished a large axe with his magic, baring his yellowed teeth to the prisoners. Dusk thought that he might be the personification of death itself.

Mahogany brought out a list, clearing his throat, and held it in his hoof. “Today we execute three convicts; enemies of the Legion, and Equestria,” he recited from memory. Then he looked at the list. “So we demand that you step forward, Garnet, found guilty of the crime of worshipping Luna.”

The old buck stepped over to the chopping block easily. Unlike Dusk, he was quite calm.

“Garnet, do you have anything to say before your life is taken?” Mahogany asked.

“I spent most my life prayin’ to Celestia askin' her to let my family live comfortably, but nothin’ ever come of it,” he said coolly. “I don’t regret my decision, ‘cause I know if anyone’s waitin’ up there for me, it ain’t Celestia.” Murmurs of disagreement arose as the crowd grew uncomfortable at his words.

Mahogany spoke again after a moment. “You are sentenced to execution.”

The cowled pony lowered Garnet’s head onto the block. The old buck closed his eyes. Dusk saw him smile, despite his fate. The axe swung up into the air, hanging for what seemed like an eternity.

The sound cut through the silence. Then Garnet’s head tumbled into a basket. His body was kicked over to make room. Dusk let out a breath he did not realise he was holding.

Mahogany held his head low for only a second before moving on. “We ask you to step forward, Dreamdancer, found guilty of the crime of practicing dragon magic.”

Her thin, shaking legs barely made it to the spot beside Garnet’s body. The crowd muttered impatiently. She trembled horribly, looking down at Garnet's head. Dusk felt like crying right along with her.

“As you are required to be gagged at all times, we cannot allow you any last words,” Mahogany said regretfully. “I apologise, Dreamdancer. You are sentenced to execution.”

The executioner made to lower her head, but she did it on her own. Shrugging, he raised the axe once again.

With a loud swoop, a large shadow suddenly fell over the town. Looking up, the crowd gaped and began to run in terror. Dusk craned to see what it was.

“DRAGON!” someone screamed.

The dragon perched itself on a tower, opening its jaws wide. Its scales were a deep black, and sharper than any blade Dusk had ever seen. It looked like something straight out of the Legion's descriptions of Hell. Violet flames shot from its mouth, showering the platform and igniting the executioner. Somehow the flames did not affect Dreamdancer, but only wrapped around her, stopped by some force.

“You dare steal my prey!?” the dragon bellowed in a deep voice. Dusk was almost thrown off balance by the power behind it. “You will all suffer!”

Dreamdancer had curled into a ball in fear, now freely wailing. Mahogany galloped over to her to help, but the dragon shot flames once again. Mahogany flailed helplessly, screaming in agony. Dusk knew he had to escape. He had to get the lock off of his horn!

He spotted Lemons gaping at the attacking dragon. He shouted at the guard, “Get this thing off my horn!”

Lemons didn’t respond.

Dusk shoved him. “Unlock my horn! We need to get out of here!” The dragon let out a bone-shaking roar and flapped its wings. “NOW!”

Lemons retrieved a key from a pocket and hastily unlocked the device on Dusk’s horn, letting it fall to the ground. “It's Luna's dragon!” he cried uselessly.

Dusk shoved him again with a hoof. “I don't care what the Legion thinks it is! We need to run!” He turned around. Dreamdancer was gone. He looked up to see her body hanging limp between the dragon’s jaws.

Lemons seemed to regain his composure and realise what was going on, finally. He nudged Dusk and said, “We can get out through the northern gate. Follow me.”

Dusk followed Lemons through a crowd of panicked citizens. The dragon was still flying overhead, raining fire down on the town. Eventually the two made it to the northern gate where the Legion General was organising an evacuation.
Lemons shouted to her immediately, “I’ve got one of the prisoners, ma’am! He won’t be escaping us!” He tried to grab onto Dusk, but the thief got away easily.

“Are you insane?” Dusk yelled. “A dragon is attacking us! You’re not taking me prisoner again!” Lemons just started galloping at him. The General gave the order for her soldiers to capture him as well. These ponies were insane!

Dusk was much faster on his hooves and ran to the town wall, leaping onto some barrels and over the perimeter. The Legion burst through the gates behind him. He breathed heavily as he barrelled across the frosty path. He could hear their armour rattling as they galloped after him.

That terrible dragon’s roar sounded overhead. Dusk heard the pained cries of the soldiers as it burned them alive. It was hardly a relief with the dragon still above, however. The sun was setting on the horizon and doing a brilliant job of giving him trouble seeing, too.

“You’re not getting away, bastard!” Lemons shouted. Dusk looked back in shock. How was he still alive? Surely the dragon got him. But Lemons was just as vicious and relentless as ever.

Dusk picked up his pace and darted between the trees. The forest would hopefully help him get away. The rags the Legion gave him to wear certainly didn’t keep him warm as his old cloak, but he dealt with the chill of the leaves brushing against him. The sun had disappeared completely by now and left very little in the way of light.

Lemons’ bulky armour hindered him, but he put up a fight, keeping Dusk in his sights. As Dusk brushed the trees, however, accumulated snow began to drop. A clump landed right in Lemons’ face, temporarily blinding him and leading him to run into a tree.

Dusk grinned with victory. He could no longer hear the dragon and Lemons wouldn’t likely be keeping up with him now. He kept running for a few minutes, but the adrenaline pumping through him gradually faded and he felt the full effects of Skyrim’s cold climate. His fur and the rags the Legion equipped him with barely saved him from the biting breeze that was now passing through the forest.

He had no idea where he was.

His breaths formed little clouds as he trotted stiffly. He couldn’t stop now. His hoof prints in the snow would reveal his position to Lemons eventually. With this in mind, he used his magic to cover his tracks.

Eventually he came to a clearing where he spotted a cave entrance in a rock face. The cave could be full of bears for all he cared; he was freezing to death outside. So he went inside immediately. Escaping from the chilling wind did wonders. He almost collapsed from exhaustion right there, but he kept pressing further into the cave, feeling the cold leaving him.

The darkness gave way to the warming light of a camp fire, and Dusk began to tread lightly. Leaning around a corner, he saw two elven stallions sitting across from each other around a campfire. The delightful smell of toasted bread met his nose. His stomach growled noisily. Unfortunately, the elves noticed the sound and instantly armed themselves with daggers.

“Come out, or we’ll kill you!” one of them, an earth elf, shouted hesitantly.

Dusk slowly stepped into their view, bowing his head in surrender. The elf was quizzical as he saw Dusk’s attire.

“You’re a prisoner?” he asked in disbelief. “I thought only elves …”

Dusk raised his head. “You might not believe me, but …” He sighed. “I managed to escape because of a dragon.”

The elf and his partner exchanged skeptical glances. “We saw the dragon pass by,” he said slowly. “It really was heading for Helgen then.”

The elves put their weapons down and let Dusk sit with them, content with his story. They told him about how they were also prisoners at Helgen, but they managed to escape the day before by knocking out one of the guards and running for their lives.

Their names were Frost and Dawnglow, a pegasus and earth elf, respectively. They were lovers who met as servants to the same pony master. They warmed to Dusk quickly and shared stories long into the night of their time in Equestria. Dusk told them of how he became a thorn in the Legion’s side.

Finally, they grew tired and settled down. Dawnglow and Frost huddled up together near the fire and Dusk lay down on his own on the other side. He closed his eyes and, before long, fell asleep.

***

“Dusk, wake up.”

A hoof nudged his face.

“Dusk!” the voice whispered more urgently.

He turned over and saw Frost looking quite worried. “What is it?” he muttered, trying to wake up. He pushed himself upward with his forelegs. Cool sunlight glared from the cave’s exit. Dawnglow wasn’t with them.

“The smoke from the fire may have given us away,” Frost said regretfully. “We heard noises outside and … Dawnglow went out to check.”

Dusk stood up and started towards the exit. Frost hooked a hoof around his leg.

“Wait!” he said and turned around to pick something up. He held the dagger between his teeth. Dusk took it with his magic, nodding to the elf.

Stepping carefully, he looked outside into the clearing. He couldn’t see Dawnglow. He moved out further and then heard around a dozen metal boots begin stomping on leaves. Did they see him? He couldn’t see them.

An arrow zipped past his face, cutting his cheek. It clattered on the cave floor. They definitely saw him. He ducked back inside, wincing.

“Dusk!” Frost yelped. “You’re bleeding!”

He absent-mindedly wiped his leg against his cheek and slid the dagger underneath his makeshift rope belt. “Yes, but we have to get out of this cave now,” he said urgently. There was no other way out of the cave. This would be difficult.

Frost followed him closely. Dusk imagined he had never been in a situation such as this in the past. The pegasus was likely terrified for his partner. From what Dusk could gather last night though, Dawnglow was persistent and courageous. He was likely still alive.

They heard the shouts of the soldiers outside. Dusk imagined that they’d be surrounding the exit. He turned to Frost. “When I run out, fly in the other direction and stick to the tops of the trees,” he whispered quickly. “I think there are three of them. They won’t be able to follow us both, so they’ll come after me.”

“What if they get you?” Frost asked.

“I escaped a dragon and over thirty of them,” he reassured. “I can handle myself well enough.”

No more words passed between them. When Dusk had prepared himself, he tapped his hoof against the wall and broke into a run. Frost immediately followed. The surprised cries from the soldiers signalled the beginning of yet another escape for Dusk. He hoped that he’d be successful once again.

As he had expected, the soldiers ignored Frost and directed their deadly attention to him. He had to admit that he’d never seen ponies so eager to put an end to him before. Maybe the Legion was sore at the losses they suffered at Helgen? They couldn’t really blame him for that, though …

An arrow slammed into a tree above his head. Their archer was getting dangerously close. He made sure to dodge between trees frequently.

“Get him, damn it!” cried the familiar voice of Lemons. That guard was starting to get on Dusk’s nerves!

The ground fell into a slight downward slope. Dusk could see sharp rocks poking out of the snow. He leapt over one to avoid tripping. Another arrow shot past him. It was getting just a little frightening how close they were. He still felt the warm blood dripping down his cheek.

The slope helped him gain speed, but he was forced to take a straighter path, putting him in danger. Behind him, Lemons and the other soldier stumbled. They were too heavy and could not keep their hoofing. The archer, however, stopped and concentrated to focus one last shot. He drew an arrow back.

Dawnglow leapt out at him suddenly, burying his dagger in the archer’s throat. Dusk heard the gargled death cry and skidded to a halt. He turned around in time to see Dawnglow ripping the dagger back out.

“Get that knife-ear!” Lemons shouted at the other soldier. “I’ll take the thief!”

Dusk saw Dawnglow looking down at the archer with a pale face, muzzle stained with blood. It must have been his first kill. He didn’t pay any attention to the soldier heading towards him. Dusk yelled a warning at him, and he barely dodged a swing from the soldier’s sword.

Dusk looked to Lemons who was now leaping at him, sword clutched in his teeth, swinging downward. Dusk quickly grasped the sword with his magic, trying to hold it back.

He felt the sharp edge of the sword powerfully cutting through his magic, grunting in pain. It almost overwhelmed him, but he used the time he bought himself to jump away and recover. Lemons attempted another swing at him, which he ducked under.

He started running again, this time up the slope towards Dawnglow. The elf was limber and quick to avoid the soldier’s slow attacks. Dusk decided to improvise and took the fallen archer’s bow. He pulled an arrow from the quiver on the ground and nocked it.

He had never used a bow before, but at close range he didn’t need any skill to hit the soldier right in the back of the head. The arrow hit its mark and the soldier fell limp onto the snow. Lemons roared and began charging at Dusk again.

Dawnglow started running around Lemons back down the slope and Dusk was more than happy to follow, dropping the bow. The two easily weaved by Lemons, who was too exhausted from his angry strikes to keep pace with them.

The trees became a blur as they finally let themselves feel easy. Eventually their gallop slowed to a trot until they stopped to rest, chests heaving with deep breaths. A small stream flowed through this part of the forest. The thick layer of snow had become a thin blanket, giving way to a covering of leaves below.

They leant down at the stream and drank from it eagerly. The archer’s blood was washed from Dawnglow’s muzzle, and Dusk cleaned his own blood from his face and his leg. Finally they could settle down and speak.

“What happened to Frost?” asked Dawnglow, rolling onto his back and staring up at the sky through the trees. His voice was even. Dusk glanced at him. His face couldn’t be read.

Dusk sighed. “We were nearly trapped in that cave,” he said. “I got him to fly in the opposite direction while I distracted them.”

Dawnglow shot upright in surprise. “He’s okay?”

“Of course,” Dusk replied.

Dawnglow ran over to him and hugged him hard, licking his cheek affectionately. “Thank you!” he cried in joy.

Dusk stood awkwardly with the elf wrapped around him for a few seconds before he was released. “Well, uh,” he coughed. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Sorry,” Dawnglow said, flushing. “I’m so glad he’s still alive. But he’s probably flying around searching for us, right?”

Dusk looked to the skies. “He could have followed, honestly. We made quite a ruckus.”

Dawnglow sat back down. He rubbed at his mane sheepishly, eyeing the cut on Dusk’s face. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to warn you two,” he said. “When I spotted them I was too far out. They’d have noticed me if I tried to get back in to tell you …”

“It’s alright,” Dusk said. “What’s important is that we’ve all gotten away with our lives intact.”

Dawnglow looked at their tracks in the snow behind them. “Uh …”

“Don’t worry. Lemons won’t be able to pick up our trail from here,” Dusk said, kicking at the leaves and grinning. “We should definitely keep moving though.”

Dawnglow frowned, however. “Lemons?”

“Uh, the soldier we left alive,” he explained, looking back as well. “Not so sure we should have, now.”

Dawnglow didn’t seem to like the implication, scratching at his muzzle with a hoof. “I’d rather not have to kill anyone,” he said softly. Then his ears perked up. A quiet flapping of wings could be heard getting close. “Frost!” he cried.

“Dawnglow!”

The two collided in a tight embrace. They kissed briefly before Frost turned to Dusk.

“I’m so sorry I let you sacrifice your safety for me like that,” he blurted out woefully. He pressed his face into Dusk’s shoulder and wrapped his legs around his neck. “You hardly even know me, and … and you saved my life!”

Dawnglow grinned at Dusk, shaking his head, and said, “He gets dramatic like that. He acted the same way after I took the fall for him breaking our master’s favourite vase.” Frost blushed profusely and let go of Dusk.

The three calmed down and began moving again to avoid another possible encounter with the Legion. Dusk recounted his pursuit by the soldiers and how Dawnglow helped to Frost on the way. The trees grew sparse and a sprawling landscape of mountains and plains revealed itself to the group.

Dusk took in the size of Skyrim for the first time.

They followed the small stream that they found earlier. It trickled into a long, winding river, leading to a city Frost identified as Whitetrot. Perhaps there they would be able to escape the Legion for good.