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VGC Chapter 60: Execution
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 07:03:51 +0000 UTCHashimi waited, propped up on her knees in line with the other stormcloaks sans Lokir, the horse thief, who’d been shot down when he’d tried
Hashimi waited, propped up on her knees in line with the other stormcloaks sans Lokir, the horse thief, who’d been shot down when he’d tried to escape.
The imperial captain leading the execution was glaring at her with the hatred of a thousand suns, a makeshift bandage affixed to her ruined mess of a nose.
When a cultivator headbutted someone several cultivation realms below them, it showed.
Hashimi didn’t care anymore. She could try to escape again now, but she knew that she didn’t have a chance against all the soldiers gathered up. The personal guard of the observing General Tullius would eventually jump in, even if she succeeded against the mooks, and then she’d be done for.
The entire introduction scenario was scripted to lead you to the chopping block, although she knew that if you delayed the execution too much with your attempts, the dragon would come at a specific time, not an event, and start burning down the town.
Her beautiful town. She looked melancholically at the stone wall surrounding the outpost and at the tastefully rustic houses making up the inside. Created just to be burned down. She’d reuse the assets later on for future cities, but still. She’d made the place, Jin had made the people, and Francis had made all the in-between.
All that just to burn it down for an artistic vision. She was the painter, but she had to admit that Jin was more of a hardcore artist than she was.
“You don’t seem scared. Do you have any Nordic blood? You are a bit paler than the average redguard, and I’ve never seen those slanted eyes before,” Ralof said from her left.
Hashimi would certainly have been more afraid were she actually here with her physical body. But considering the abuse and death she’d suffered in other Illusion Rooms in the past, dying a few more times didn’t really phase her.
Not that she would even die.
No matter how much that captain probably wanted her to.
“Nords don’t have a monopoly on bravery,” Hashimi replied idly.
Ralof laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”
“They don’t have a monopoly on honour either,” Hashimi continued, which quickly stopped the man cold. “You should have given them a few more bloody noses to remember you by. What were they going to do, execute you?”
Silence descended on the execution grounds.
Other than the captain reading off the many, many crimes of the Stormcloaks, of course.
“And last but not least, we add on the crime of treason, the crime of having only two brain cells and spreading unhygienic practices in the Empire. The winter is harsh, and being stuck in an inn with a bunch of unwashed men who put lard in their hair is not anyone’s idea of a good time,” the captain finished reading off her official-looking scroll, with a slightly confused voice.
Whoever had written the scroll had seemingly forgotten to cross out one of the jokes.
Jin, in this case.
She’d have to tell him about that.
The captain waved her hand and glared at Hashimi before jutting her head to the chopping block, which was now receiving its first visitor.
An echoing roar suddenly disrupted the proceedings, causing everyone to instinctively flinch, even if they tried to brush it off.
“Continue with the proceedings!” the general ordered from his viewing position.
The first Stormcloak was kicked down to the block.
“My ancestors are looking down at me with pride. Can you say the same, General Tullius?” the man asked loudly.
Then his head was gone.
“Imperial bastards!” someone shouted from the crowd of mortals spectating the execution.
“Justice!” Another voice replied.
Next it was Hashimi’s turn to get dragged forward under the collective glares of the soldiers present, their metal armour gleaming under the sun.
“Any last words?” the captain asked sadistically as Hashimi was kicked down, her neck on the rough wood of the chopping block.
“Ligma,” Hashimi replied.
“What?” the captain asked, along with the soldier who’d kicked Hashimi.
“Ligma balls!” the woman shouted, her head turned to the left, to the tower jutting over the proceedings.
The cowled headman raised his axe up high.
A murky brown dragon landed on the tower and roared.
Pandemonium erupted. Some screamed, some fell to the ground, some ran, and Hashimi simply stood up from where she’d been kneeling and critically looked at the brown dragon.
Threatening enough, she determined, before turning around, already knowing what was coming.
A hissing sound, like a gigantic gas leak, resounded from behind her as she awkwardly hobbled to one of the stone watchtowers, which might just not combust under the upcoming attack.
Not bothering with the stairs she simply hopped on both feet to do a front-flip which carried her up several meters and through the window into the watchtower.
Behind her, the world erupted in flames, great bursts of orange, yellow and red licking over the entirety of Helgen as the dragon swept its head around.
Just as she started looking around for something sharp, Ralof, Ulfric and the rest of the Stormcloaks rushed into the watchtower.
Hashimi didn’t spare them a glance, finding a broken sword in a corner, hopping over and promptly used it to cut the ropes at her feet.
“Bitch!” Ralof shouted excitedly as the stormcloaks settled down next to her, as Hashimi also finished cutting the ropes tying her hands. “What did you do for them to tussle you up so thoroughly?”
“Dumbass, I’m just more dangerous than you,” Hashimi replied coldly, taking the broken sword and cutting the restraints of the stormcloaks one by one. They promptly removed Ulfric’s mouth gag, causing him to choke and spit to get some new saliva into his mouth orifice. Hashimi knew how it was to be gagged like that for a long time, and the mouth didn’t feel pretty after. She ignored Ralof’s question.
She handed Ralof the broken sword. “Here,” she said. “Try not to stab yourself.” She then went over to the gapped part of the watchtower and saw that the dragon was ascending into the sky.
The imperials, those that were still alive, were shooting at it with arrows. It wasn’t doing much.
Tullius was shouting something.
“There’s a tunnel underneath that big tower the dragon landed on; it’s our only way out,” Ralof said to her and the other Stormcloaks.
“Why not just scale the walls and escape Helgen in the open?” Hashimi asked curiously, causing one of the stormcloaks to quickly rush to the other side of the tower and look down.
“The drop is too big and we can’t climb it, it’s been smoothened up so it can’t be scaled,” he informed the group. “We’ll break our leg, and Talos knows this dragon might roast us if we stay above ground.”
“The tower, then,” Hashimi said in agreement. She was the one who’d made the walls, and she knew exactly that they were at a height at which, without a proper falling technique, even a foundation establishment cultivator would hurt themselves if they recklessly jumped.
Additionally, to incentivise people to take the required route, the dragon was set to target specifically anyone trying to escape that way. At this point in the scenario, without the specific spells and skills available, the dragon was too strong to beat in combat, even if she was sure many would try. Escape was the only option, and there was only one route.
The only way was the tower.
“Good,” Ralof said, “how about we jump down here?” he said, pointing towards a house that was just beneath the watchtower.
Hashimi didn’t wait for more conversation and just jumped down, immediately after, as she ran through the top floor to get down, the house was hit by another ball of fire, blocking it as a path for the stormcloaks.
Her beautiful architecture fell apart behind her, burning to ashes, support beams creaking and crashing down as the whole structure collapsed into one big bonfire.
A look up assured her the dragon was still circling, interrupting its incessant fire attacks only to laugh at the futility of the resistance that the humans below were putting up.
It was as she was running through the slowly evaporating town she’d painstakingly created that Hashimi bent down to pick up a still-intact sword from a badly burned corpse. It wasn’t any sort of heft she’d ever seen before, but it was good enough.
A moment to hide beneath a nearly collapsed wall to escape a hail of fire, a few more steps and she was in front of the tower.
She’d inadvertently picked up Hadvar on the way, but promptly entered the keep with Ralof instead. The Nord had found an axe at some point, having ditched the broken sword she’d given him.
“Through here, let’s go!” the man shouted and opened the doors, quickly entering the round antechamber of the keep.
Painfully designed, like everything else, fated to burn.
“Gunjar!” Ralof exclaimed, running to a Stormcloak corpse and kneeling down next to it, before sighing. “Dead!” he exclaimed, before turning to Hashimi. “Take his armour,” he urged. “Something gives me the feeling we’ll need it.”
Hashimi critically looked down at the heavy armour, bloody furs and poorly made metal.
“No thanks,” she said dismissively. “Where do we go?” she asked, already knowing the answer but having to experience the scenario from the perspective of a fresh experiencer.
Ralof threw her a frown before going to a grated gate and pulling at it. “Locked!” he cursed. “Where’s the key?”
“No need,” Hashimi replied and solved the issue the way any other cultivator would use. She walked up to the iron gate, raised her rag-covered leg and violently kicked it open.
The iron gate violently flew off its hinges, smashing against a far-off well with enough force to shake it.
“Let’s go,” Hashimi said blandly as she walked through the new opening deeper into the keep, paying mind to be slow enough to let Ralof catch up.
“By Talos woman, what do they feed you in Hammerfell?” he asked as they jogged.
The keep suddenly shook, a blast of fire rocking it to its foundations.
Hashimi’s answer was interrupted by the two of them suddenly entering a room at the same time as the imperial captain from earlier and another soldier from the other side.
The no-nosed philistine looked at Hashimi first with surprise, and then rage. “I’ve got you now!” she screamed and rushed at her with her sword raised.
Hashimi wasn’t a fighter, but every cultivator knew the basics, and her senses and strength, even if she was primarily a mind cultivator, were much better than that of the Empire mooks they’d be facing in the keep. Not even bothering with the sword in her right hand, she idly stepped forward, channelled her qi to her left and slapped away the gladius of the captain. Then she slapped the captain in the face, ignoring the helmet and putting all her power into it.
The woman’s eyes just had time to widen before her head spun around violently with two cracks, and she fell down dead.
Hashimi walked over to the Empire soldier Ralof had just started clashing with and decapitated him with one quick swipe.
The wide-eyed Nord gave her a look indicating that he didn’t quite know what to say to that before looking around the room they were in.
“Supplies!” he shouted. “Let’s open the chests, perhaps there’s some potions?” he said, rushing over to one of the trunks.
Hashimi did the same, fishing out one red, one blue and one green potion.
“Great,” Ralof said, coming back to her with the same assortment. “We won’t have to worry about our health, stamina or magicka while we escape!”
He suddenly looked at Hashimi suspiciously. “You’re not a mage, are you?” he asked.
“Shut it,” Hashimi replied harshly, causing the man to suddenly stand straight and zip it. She took the magicka potion from his hand and put it away in her pockets.
“Fools!” a loud raspy voice suddenly resounded from outside the keep, powerful enough to penetrate its walls in carrying its message. “You think mere arrows can harm this junior brother!? Elder Aldiun was kind enough to revive me so I may show you ants what a superior lifeform looks like, but you disappoint me even more than you did in the past cycles! The end of the world is nigh, and yet you struggle so weakly?!”
“Alduin, the World eater?” Ralof gasped.
“Keep running,” Hashimi ordered him, at which Ralof nodded and they kept going as the dragon once again started decimating Helgen.
“If the dragons truly return… The World eater?” Ralof muttered as he led the two of them down some stairs, which were promptly crushed by a large boulder breaking through the walls of the keep and smashing the structure.
The blitzed through two imperial soldiers to arrive at the torture chamber where a small skirmish was occurring. Hashimi promptly killed the soldier attacking a female Stormcloak, dodged the Sparks the torturer sent her way before throwing a barrel at his head, crushing it and the barrel into debris.
She went over to his body and the very obviously important tome the torturer had dropped.
“By Talos!” One of the stormcloaks she’d saved exclaimed, looking at her.
“Have you seen Ulfric?” Ralof asked, and got a negative response
Hashimi ignored them and briefly appreciated Francis’ input. Jin had originally wanted to put the spell tome into the cage. She hadn’t really understood why a prisoner would be allowed to keep a spell book that the torturer had obviously learned from. This made more sense to her. She also frisked the corpses for some coins before imbibing the book.
She now knew how to cast Sparks, well, not really, as it wasn’t a real spell. She now knew which mental button to press to activate the effect ingrained into the scenario.
As she appreciated the smooth way the knowledge was input into her head, Francis’ work, Ralof came to her and urged her to continue.
Hashimi idly nodded. In the next confrontation, more soldiers, she then unleashed her spell, watching curiously as the soldier she’d singled out as a test subject was roasted alive while her magicka drained.
He screamed, but she was more interested in the very realistic blackening of the skin where the electricity made contact with his body.
The rest of the escape wasn’t particularly interesting, and everything went smoothly. She didn’t bother sneaking past the spiders or the bear, continuing to raise her spell’s proficiency, to the disgust of the nords, before finally emerging into the sunlight. She conversed with Ralof about the return of the dragon, after which the scenario ended.
Hashimi opened her eyes back in Jin’s foodbucket design apartment and gave her two collaborators a thumbs up.
“It’s alright!” she exclaimed, seeing a visible wave of relief wash over their faces, one young, one old.
They were cute like that.
Comments
bor902
A fanfiction within a fanfiction within a fancition
ScarletIce
Oh, I wonder if MC is going to make all the books longer. They're mostly just a few paragraphs to a few pages long in the game. It would be funny to see his team's reaction to him writing a fully complete set of The Lusty Argonian Maid books.
ScarletIce
I'm thinking that lockpicking will primarily be for people that are trying not to make too much noise.
MagicWafflez
I'm sad they aren't learning to pick locks lol... hopefully doors to good loot are indestructible
Pope Yoda I
"Death to the Empire!"
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