Author's Note: Hello everybody! Yes its me, the Masked Half Blood once again coming to you all from my keyboard. I know, I usually would have posted a chapter yesterday into 'First Task: Dovahkiin' but I had to work, which ended up being a big trip to the hospital for one of my coworkers, so no chapter. Now, a lot of you have realized that I'm learning this whole writing fanfiction thing and I thank you for helping me. Some of you can just be dicks, but at least you make your opinions known.

A few people asked for longer chapters, and that's what I'm going to do, just know that the longer the chapters the less time I have to put them out. Maybe one or two chapters per week rather than three or four. Its just the way its going to work out. I've read all the comments and reviews and will be using your helpful suggestions in this dramatic rewrite of the story.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I had fun writing it.

The rumbling of the crowd gathering down the hill from the ancient castle was the first thing the youngest champion of the Triwizard Tournament noticed as he stepped through the main doors and into the sunlight. The sky was filled with ominous clouds as the month of November began to die and the harsh Scottish winter approached. The Black Lake which lay between the castle and the nearby village of Hogsmeade already saw chunks of ice forming and floating across its eerily calm surface.

The Champion's emerald color eyes found the Quidditch Pitch easily. A plain stadium with five risen sets of benches for the spectators was almost unrecognizable now as the builders and craftsmen of the Ministry of Magic had transformed it into a near replica of the Colosseum in Rome. Lines of men, women and children stretched out from the entrances and ticket sellers, past carefully constructed kiosks selling Champion merchandising and toward the school gates.

The fourteen year old Harry James Potter had no desire to be involved whatsoever.

The wizards and witches hailed the black haired youth as their savior, the one who had defeated the Dark Lord, Voldemort, as an infant in swaddling clothes. Yet whenever he showed a talent or a skill they didn't accept they hated him, just like they had in second year when he revealed his ability to speak the language of snakes, parseltongue. Now they hated him for being in a tournament meant for men and women in their seventh years of magical schooling, a tournament he hadn't entered himself in.

They called him a liar and a cheat, even his best friend since first year, Ron Weasley, the redheaded toe rag, had turned on him. While the freckle faced boy might not have known Harry saw him, he had spotted the other boy wearing one of the 'Potter Stinks' badges. Those badges were just another in the line of cruel harassment that Harry had to endure while the staff of Hogwarts looked the other way.

Now he was being escorted by his Head of House, the stern dark haired witch, Minerva McGonagall, to a fate he knew nothing about. The Triwizard Tournament was broken into three secret tasks that the students would have to compete in with little or no forewarning. While cheating had been a time honored tradition in the past, the judges and task creators had managed to keep a firm lid on the first task so no competitor knew what was coming.

Now, dressed in a heavy fur cloak of crimson and gold, the colors of House Gryffindor, he felt as though he was being lead to the executioner's block. He didn't say a word as they traveled down the path toward the Colosseum sized pitch, where hundreds of roaring and happy people had paid to see the Champions ripped limb from limb. He had learned from the Dursleys and the staff in the past that what he had to say didn't matter in the slightest such as 'I don't want to compete in your stupid tournament'. They ignored his words and thus he had been forced to save them from their own incompetence for the first two years of his schooling and save his Godfather from bias and lies in his third.

How they thought a boy who hadn't even begun studying for his O.W.L.s could compete against adults ready to take their N.E.W.T.s, he couldn't fathom. He was rather certain that after today he would be reunited with his mother and father beyond the mortal coil and in a way he was happy. In his dazed state of preparing for his own demise he didn't even think of what the task might possibly be, it didn't matter in the end to be honest.

His eyes drifted to the architecture of the new stadium as passed beneath a wooden archway and into the shadowed corridor meant for the champions to take. The changing rooms for quidditch players passed almost unnoticed on his right side but he wondered if he could summon his Firebolt from this distance and just run away. Damn the tournament and the 'world' that thought to put him on a pedestal. Just maybe he could find a place beyond the wands and magic, beyond the borders of the United Kingdom where he could just be Harry.

It was a fool's dream though, just like his hopes of escaping his neglectful and cruel family in the non-magical world. At least that was a dream he had nearly attained with his godfather last year before Severus Snape the potion master and professor crushed his dreams again. The greasy haired man had made it his life's mission to make the teen as miserable as possible and he succeeded at every turn.

Again he stepped into the sunlight as they passed the wardstones that held the barrier to keep those who weren't authorized off the pitch. He had heard the roar and ground shaking applause for the other three champions as they arrived before him but for his entrance the crowd was split. Some cheered the savior of the their world calling out for the Boy-Who-Lived while others jeered and hissed at the boy who had seemingly let fame gone to his head and force his way into a competition he had no reason to be part of.

He didn't care for either side though. They all were ignorant sheep in his mind believing whatever they were told by those who they felt had power. They forgot about his parents, Voldemort's final victims and the real reason he had become a wrath filled wraith, and looked on him as a hero, which he wasn't in his mind. He had faced the man born as Tom Riddle twice and both times it was because the adults around him failed those in their charge. Three times he had been confronted by his parent's murderer, including as a baby, and each time he just managed to get away with his life.

Climbing the wooden steps onto the dais where the real champions stood, he couldn't help but feel tiny in comparison. Cedric Diggory, the Champion from Hufflepuff, and Victor Krum, Durmstrang's Champion, both towered over his thin and frail form looking every part the champion they were meant to be thanks to the Goblet of Fire. Fleur Delacour, the Champion of Beauxbaton's, looked like a goddess in her powder blue robes that hugged her figure and released her veela allure on the men on stage.

Barty Crouch, the man who had sentenced his godfather, Sirius Black, without trial to life in Azkaban and now had forced the fourteen year old to compete in this farce, stood on the far end of the stage, talking to Professor 'Mad-eye' Moody, named so for his spinning oversized fake eye. Ludo Bagman, the chubby head of the Ministry's games and entertainment department, stood near the champions with his eyes fixated on the busty seventeen year old veela and a string of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Albus Dumbledore stood near a podium decorated with a moving stone owl dressed in robes of splendid mauve. His hair had been combed down his back and his beard twisted into a French braid that disappeared into his belt. He looked rather jovial with his twinkling blue eyes behind his half-moon glasses. When he saw Harry was looking though he gave the boy a rather inspiring smile and a wink as though he knew what was going to happen and in a way it made the young wizard feel better about the day to come.

Taking up a good section of the stage herself was Madam Maxine the Headmistress of Beauxbaton's Women's Institute for the Magically Inclined, or that what Harry thought the name translated to in English. She was a massive woman in height, clearing nine feet easily and if rumor was correct she had giant blood in her veins. The black haired wizard had seen the woman at times walking with the equally proportioned groundskeeper, Hagrid, and wondered if the two had become an item.

Lastly was the rather intimidating Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang. He was dressed in black robes and seemed to know Snape well at some point in their past. The two must have had a falling out at some point as they openly glared at one another whenever they were in the same room as each other. The two men did seem to have on thing in common, by the looks in their eyes they both despised the young champion with a vengeance for something he had no idea about.

As he moved to stand beside the other champions he ignored Cedric's not to subtle shift away from his side and instead focused on the crowd. He could see hundred of witches and wizards packed in and packing more by the looks of things. Many had concessions and seemed to be eagerly awaiting the start of the mythic tournament that's main attraction was the high number of deaths it had brought about.

He hoped his friend Hermione was somewhere on the grounds because he couldn't find her in the sea of faces. She alone stood by him and believed him that he didn't enter the stupid tournament. The brainy witch had even been helping him learn spells that they thought might help in the unknown tasks to come and putting her homework off to keep him alive. If one knew Hermione they knew that it was a sign of her friendship that she would put off school work to help someone.

His emerald eyes flashed to Dumbledore again though as the aged wizard raised his wand to his throat and used a spell Harry didn't know, "Sonorus". The result wasn't immediately obvious until the older man opened his mouth and began to speak in a loud booming voice that covered the grounds of Hogwarts without difficulty.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for the Triwizard Tournament to begin," the oldest person on the stage spoke to the audience. "Our Champions are gathered and their wands have been weighed in and found acceptable. May we please have a warm round of applause for our champions; Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, Victor Krum of Durmstrang and representing an unknown school, Harry Potter."

The roar of the crowd was deafening for the students who weren't used to such things even though their older counterparts seemed unaffected.

"Those of us who put the tournament together were rather flummoxed by the reveal of a fourth champion and knew that our tasks would need to reflect the change brought about," he continued after the crowd had died down. "However the nature of the task has changed little. Originally the champions were to draw their opponent from a bag and face an untold danger and that is still the case but now only on a grander scale," the aged headmaster explained before motioning to Ludo Bagman.

The portly former quidditch star produced a rather rough and beaten bag that seemed to have existed for ages and held it up for the crowd to 'ooh' and 'aah' over. A rather fiery glare from the Hogwarts' headmaster though had the man moving to the champions. He held the mysterious bag out to Victor who he came across first and for once the rather sour looking teen looked nervous even as he reached his hand in and closed his fingers around what would be his task and withdrew it.

The raven haired teen blinked at the sight of what Krum had produced. It wasn't some insane monster or anything wizard related at all. Rather he held a case what oddly enough looked like a video game's clam case to the fourteen year old. He had seen his cousin Dudley with enough of them to recognize it almost immediately. Was this the task though? They had to play a video game?

"As you can see," Dumbledore continued addressing the crowd as Ludo moved on to a confused Fleur, "the champions are drawing what many would consider simple muggle video games. And they are would be right to think such a thing, however with magic so many wondrous options are open to us in this time." He paused as Cedric now reached in and drew out a game and his eyes settled on Harry for a moment before turning away to the crowd again. "These games, with research and development by our own Department of Magical Games and Sports will serve as the first task of the Triwizard Tournament."

The young teen swallowed thickly as he reached into the bag Ludo held in front of him. He closed his eyes as he felt for something and hoped it was going to be something easy and not life threatening. His fingers fumbled about before he felt something different. It wasn't a simple plastic case with a pretty cover but felt almost like a book cover. His curiosity peaked he withdrew his choice and sealed his fate.

It was a gray cover that reminded him of steel in a way with a dragon imprinted in silver in the very middle.

The Elder Scrolls V

SKYRIM

Legendary Edition

Winner Of

More Than 200 Game Of The Year Awards

-Includes-

Dawnguard, Hearthfire

and Dragonborn

The game claimed to be the PC edition and he wondered if the others had gotten the same or perhaps the console editions of their own games. He also thought that it probably didn't matter in the long run.

"Our Champions have made their decisions," Dumbledore's voice rang out again as he looked over the crowd. "Victor Krum has chosen Grand Theft Auto San Andreas, a rather violent game if what I hear is true. Fleur Delacour has had the wonderful luck of choosing Assassin's Creed Four Black Flag an interesting game that I'm sure she'll do fine in," he said sounding rather chipper. "Cedric Diggory has picked Bioshock two and we wish him the best of luck. Harry Potter, our final champion, has drawn the Elder Scrolls five, Skyrim, an amusing game from what our muggleborn students tell me."

The elderly wizard waved his wand into the air, not verbalizing his spell this time, and summoned four gigantic mirrors that gleamed in the rising sun's light. A second spell was cast toward the champions, one at a time, and the reflecting sunlight became an over the shoulder view of each champion allowing the crowd to see what was going on around each competitor.

"The creation method of these mirrors was given to us by one Remus Lupin, our students may remember him as our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor last year. He and his school friends would apparently use similar mirrors to communicate over vast distances and now with a monitoring charm we will be able to see our champions as they compete for points their various selections," the old man said excitedly.

"Thanks to the remarkable research done by our Ministry of Magic we have created a spell that will allow our champions to visit another world so long as they have something of that world in their possession," Dumbledore continued. "The games selected are all they need to see a new world and go where no wizard has gone before." The headmaster seemed as eager as a child in a candy store told to have at it. "Now if our champions will please, space themselves apart, we can begin."

The champions parted easily to outside of arms reach from one another and held their games. A faint smile fell on Harry's lips as he stared down at the game he had chosen before closing his eyes as a warm thought came to his mind. Maybe this was his chance to escape the world as he had hoped. Somehow, this moment, it just felt right.

He opened his eyes to see a smiling Dumbledore staring down at him with a friendly smile. He looked to his left and saw the other champions had already disappeared and a quick look at the mirrors above showed them in various states about to begin their quests. "Good luck Harry," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice that seemed to mean he had taken the voice projection charm off. "I know you can do it. Pons ad Novum Orbem!"

Dumbledore looked up at the mirror where the boy he had come to care about should have appeared only to see a flash of gold as bright as the sun shine for a second. Suddenly the mirror saw into the back of a cart as it traveled down a stone road carrying three prisoners. The old man smiled glad to see everything was going according to plan. Turning back to the crowd he touched his throat with his wand again.

"I may have forgot to mention something important," he said calmly. "Time is a marvelous thing and one taken for granted. However in a world of gaming it seems as though time moves forward much quicker. So don't be surprised if our mirrors don't catch everything that happens or if days and nights pass in the span of hours. It's perfectly normal," he said with a reassuring smile.

The world had fallen away from the youth, the crowd had gone silent after Dumbledore spoke his spell and the sun's light had vanished and then the world roared to life again. He sat with his hands bound by what felt like heavy ropes dressed in something that did not protect him from the cold weather. The boy turned his head to see where he was and found three other men bound similar to himself including one in rags. The man sitting beside him seemed important, especially with the gag that kept him from speaking.

"Ah, so your awake," one of the men said catching Harry's attention. The man was bound like the others with stringy blond hair and blue eyes. One thing about though was the man had huge arms and seemed to know about a day's worth of real hard work. He wore armor of blue and brown thick padding and seemed interesting in just making conversation which the brown haired much thinner prisoner beside him seemed willing to oblige.

The wizard though was using this time to look at the world around him. The tall trees and hard stone road were breathtaking. The carriage that carried him toward wherever he was going was rough and made of cheap wood probably in case it ever needed to be broken down. The ride was bumpy and jostled the four men in back but the wizard ignored that as he felt he had bigger problems to worry about.

He hadn't thought to look down until the horse in front of the cart decided to release its bowels and fill the cart with its stink. When he did though he was struck by a rather ominous sight, he didn't seem to have a body. If he didn't have a body then how had that man talked to him just moments before? How did they even know he was there?

His questions died in his head as the thief began to freak out over something, drawing his attention back to the conversations.

"Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm," the man said in a terrified whisper. "But, oh gods, if they've captured you then where are they taking us," he asked looking from the gagged man who was named Ulfric to the man beside him looking for answers.

"I don't know where we are going," the blonde said with a sigh as he turned to look at an upcoming stone wall and archway. "However, Sovngarde awaits," he said in a manner as though he was making peace with his life.

It wasn't hard for the teen to understand the implications of what the men were talking about. Ulfric Stormcloak must have been a high profile prisoner and they were being taken to die. The wizard would have smiled if he had a body with which to do so. He was in an alien world and about to die for something he didn't do. So, he was right back at where he was that morning.

"General Tullius the military governor," the blonde said as he looked over the side of the cart at a man in red and silver armor on horseback talking to a group of men in black robes. "The Thalmor are with him," he growled, "damn elves. I be they had something to do with this," he finished. He and Harry ignored the thief as he prayed for assistance from the world's Gods. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here," the blonde began to ramble in his life's memories causing Harry's attention to wonder.

The cart soon rolled to a stop and Harry spotted another cart stopped not far away. The prisoners were ordered out and stood, though Harry felt more of a floating situation, and began to climb down off the back of the cart.

"When we call your name step up to the block," a rather angry looking woman said as she stood next to a man holding a scroll and a inked quill.

It was the man who read the names off to them. Ulfric Stormcloak and Ralof of Riverwood both marched to the block with their heads held high. The horse thief, whose name Harry wasn't even sure he heard, took off running hoping for freedom, only to be shot with arrows for his troubles.

"You there," the man said looking at what Harry guessed was floating eyeballs in suspended space. Still he moved forward and almost chuckled as he heard his steps impact the dirt beneath his feet. "Who are you," the list man asked.

Suddenly he wasn't looking at the man and woman anymore but was instead staring at his own body from the outside. It was probably one of the most disturbing things he felt he had ever experienced and that included the damn dementors last year. As he moved to choose to keep his body the way it was though something stopped him. Not a voice from within or any form of self protection, but an actual human hand of shimmering gold that latched onto his body's shoulder.

He followed the hand to the arm it was attached to and the golden sleeve that started at the wrist. He followed the sleeve to a light green robe and then up to a neck of golden scales and the face that reminded him of the baby dragon, Norbert. The figure seemed to radiate a power and strength far beyond anything the wizard had encountered before and grew fearful. He was intruding in another world, stepping into the shoes of a destined hero he didn't know.

"Be at peace child," the dragon head said calmly and Harry felt that if his dragon's jaws could the being would smile. "I am Akatosh, God of Time and Father of Dragons," the impressive being said as he stepped away from Harry's body and leaned against the cart. "Right now we are in a suspended moment, a fraction of a second that will continue until I say otherwise. You have returned at a most interesting time."

The disembodied wizard blinked and mentally shook his head. "I apologize, your.. uh.. Godship," he said wincing at the vocabulary, "however I think you are mistaken. I've never been to this world before. My world is holding a contest between students in a school you see and we had to choose a world at random to save for points."

The dragon god held up his hand to stop Harry's explanation. "One of my powers, Harry Potter, is to see a person's timeline. I see you now, I see you as you were and where you'll be," the god of time explained. "The Triwizard Tournament and your entry were not coincidence, you know that already. Luckily, Tamriel, especially Skyrim will help you achieve things you never thought possible. Though, you'll never be just Harry here."

The dragon headed figure crossed his arms again and looked from Harry's presence to the Harry standing in front of the guards. "I cannot divulge everything to you, the laws of Mundus are clear that no mortal should know its fate and I am bound to that law the same as any being," he explained. "However, I wanted to talk to you about some things that your wizards have foolishly allowed to happen."

The dragon god didn't let Harry speak as he pushed forward. "The magic they used to send you to Mundus used a copy of the Elder Scrolls game that was mean for a computer of your world. They know nothing of the energies and advances in technology of the mundane world and didn't see any harm in what they did but we, what the people of this world call the Aedra and the Daedra, most certainly did. The Internet is a vast and powerful thing on your world a global power your people ignore but it doesn't ignore them. Using what they call muggle games mixed with magic combined technology and the arcane and let the Internet have its say as well.

"The people of your world have found ways to rewrite our world's laws and make it new again in ways even I had never for seen and so those new laws have been written into this world." He pushed himself from the cart and walked toward the standing body of the wizard. "Those changes you will have to discover on your own, though I doubt you'll even know what they are when you find them. That said, I must rewrite something myself," the time god said sadly.

"The hero of the age was meant to be Dragonborn, a being born with the soul of a dragon and the ability to speak the dragon's tongue," Akatosh said with a look at Harry's body. Casually he reached up to the list of menu options that stood beside the boy and flickered through them. Harry saw himself as a human, an elf, a lizard man and a cat, before stopping on human again. "You will need a dragon's soul to face my children in this world, Harry Potter, and there are few who would offer to join with you to slay their siblings."

The wizard stepped forward in surprise and anxiety. "What am I supposed to do then? I don't know the full details about the spell that brought me here if I die here, I might be dead for good. I'll go to Sovngarde or wherever Ralof was talking about, but I want to see my parents in the afterlife back home."

"I understand," the golden deity said with a fire in his eye. "Which is why I said there were few who would offer to join with you. Luckily one of my children has been trapped for a long time and will agree to help you survive and keep the world I helped create from being consumed. He'll claim its only a matter of pride but I know he is truly remorseful for his crimes," the god said sadly before turning his head to the sky. "Dovah Kren Tiid! DUR NEH VIIR!"

A roar tore at the heavens causing Harry to look upward in shock. A dragon beat its wings against the air and seemed to rain down pus and ooze with every flap. It circled the town of Helgen before landing on the wall behind Akatosh and giving the mortal a good look at the creature that would be helping him. It was a sickly gray-green color as pus oozed out from beneath rotting scales. Large spikes protruded from its back starting at its neck and traveling down to its spade shaped tail. Four horns jutted forward from the sides of its head as flies buzzed around its decaying body.

"Father," the dragon said in awe as it lowered its head, its neck nearly touching the wall its perched upon. "I never thought I would hear your voice call my name again." It's voice was rough seemingly from years of misuse but it spoke calmly and with admiration. It was obviously intelligent unlike the dragons of Earth and Harry thought it sounded rather well read. "I do not have long before the Ideal Masters recall me to the Soul Cairn but I am glad I have been given the opportunity to speak to you once more."

"Ah, my child, would you think I would call only to have you be taken again," Akatosh said with a shake of his draconic head. "I have summoned you to free you of your bargain to the Ideal Masters. This is Harry Potter, a world traveler whose quest it is to save Mundus from your brother," he explained motioning to the out of body teen. "However, to combat my wayward child he must become Dovahkiin, Durnehviir," the god said to explain the plight.

"I understand Father," the large dragon said before it climbed down the wall and moved to stand beside Harry's body. "He is not much to look at," Durnehviir said with a glance at the teen's small body before seemingly shrugging his wings. "I want free of the Soul Cairn and the World Eater will not have what I could not," he growled in frustration. "I will gladly accept your plan, Father."

"Wait what plan," Harry asked glad he had finally found his voice. He was standing before a God and a Dragon seemingly trying to decide his fate and he didn't like not having a say in that at all. "This is my body we're talking about and I think I should get the final say in what happens to it."

The gold dragon nodded. "You are correct Harry Potter. To combat a dragon and truly finish it they must be Dragonborn, a warrior born with the soul of a dragon. They can use a power called the Voice or Thu'um the language of the dragons and the source of their power. I plan on melding your soul with Durnehviir's granting him freedom from a trap he found himself in and allowing you to complete your task."

"But, what will happen to us," the wizard asked after a moment of thought. "If we are to merge then won't our personalities clash?"

"Durnehviir will be inside you," Akatosh said carefully, "he will be a part of you but he will not be you. Durnehviir's powers will be yours to command, Harry, and he can help guide you on your way through this world but only in nudges and some subconscious pushing. He'll be free of his prison you will be able to save the world."

The raven haired boy was silent for a long moment before he nodded. "Alright then, if it will help us both than I agree."

"Freedom at last," the rotting dragon breathed in relief before his scales began to burn red hot. The dragon's body began to burn with a fire so hot it was purple and the ash began to blow in the breeze toward the wizard. The disembodied spirit watched as his body inhaled the ash of the dragon's bones and scales before a rain of lights began to fly from the fire and seemed to pass right through the boy's chest.

"Excellent," Akatosh said before stepping up to the child and staring down at where Harry perceived himself to be. "I would say use the body creator to fix the problems you've face in the past," he said with a frown. "However one of the modified laws allows you to grow as you level, its rather impressive," the god said with a grin. "I just have one request when you get to the part where you select your name," the dragon god said with a smile and leaned forward. "Remind the Thalmor that Skyrim belongs to the Nords, Ysmir Wulfharth."

In a flash as bright as the sun itself the god was gone. Harry stared at the body creator with a new respect and mentally bit his lip. Maybe a new hairstyle or some warpaint wouldn't be that bad...

Maybe tweaking wasn't the right word. There wasn't exactly much that the young wizard could do with the sliding bars other than tweak his body. He had thought about playing as another creature, the Argonian or Khajiit would be a fun thing to experiment with but in the end he had chosen to be a Nord. It was certainly a change from his body's original British or Breton appearance. His hair fell down his neck with its new length and a single braid fell from his temple to his chin.

His arms were bigger than he had ever experienced his life before and made it sort of uncomfortable to have them bound in front of his body, especially with a broader chest. He felt rather like he could have been a blacksmith's assistant or a stable-boy before being captured. His green eyes were stronger than they had been and the world wasn't a blur without his glasses now something he eagerly looked forward to testing out... if he wasn't about to die.

He was dressed in rags similar to the thief he had seen try and run but now he didn't even feel the cold in the air around him. He wondered if the changes would be permanent or last for only the duration of the time he was in Skyrim. He sort of hoped that they would follow him back into the real world so he could show them all he wasn't some scrawny little kid anymore.

The man with the list coughed though and brought Harry back to the present. The man had asked for his name and he was supposed to answer. He opened his mouth to say his real name but stopped. Akatosh had given him a name, one that seemed to have power. He could use that to his advantage he supposed.

"My name is Ysmir," he said slowly looking the nord in the eyes and watching them widen in shock. "I am Ysmir Wulfharth," he declared to the new world.

The older nord seemed to swallow thickly understanding the name in a way that Harry didn't know but looked toward the woman beside him with a frown. "What do we do captain? He isn't on the list."

The angry Imperial woman glared at the man and then toward the young nord wizard with a fierce glower. "He goes to block with the others," she said with disdain, obviously not happy that the teen wasn't on her precious list.

"By your orders captain," the nord said before turning to the youth again. "I'm sorry, Prisoner, but you heard the captain," he said with a shake of his blonde hair. "At least you'll die here in the home of your ancestors."

Harry eyed the man with a glare before he followed after the woman in shiny steel armor and made his way toward the group of blue clad soldiers standing in a row before the headsman. Today was a day that would end in bloodshed, he just hoped it wasn't his own. He stopped and watched as the man Ralof had said to be General Tullius condemned the Jarl of Windhelm for using the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.

Akatosh hadn't mentioned that normal humans could use the Voice as well. If that was the case then why bind his and Durnehviir's souls together? He winced as the first man had his head removed and watched the blood splatter the ground as the held fell into a basket. These men were brave and willing to die for the cause they fought for. Perhaps he could be the same.

A roar ripped the air causing the men and women to pause and look around in shock. "Captain did you hear that," the nord with the list asked in surprise.

"It was nothing," she growled and pointed toward Harry. "Next, the Nord in the rags," she demanded. As the teen stepped forward he expected someone to cry out that he was just a boy but none came to his rescue. Either the men and women of this world were made of sturdier stuff then in his own world, or they just didn't care.

He was violently shoved down onto his knees and he felt the woman's armored boot smash into his back forcing his head onto the block. His green eyes watched as the executioner raised his ax to remove his head when something caught his eye. Another dragon swooped down from atop a nearby mountain and released a roar that shook the very ground.

This dragon dwarfed Durnehviir in size and seemed to radiate raw hatred and heat. Its black scales were highlighted by a burning red glow from within as fire seemed to blaze from its eye sockets. Its bottom jaw as made of steel as the scales on its underside were armored with black metal that seemed to glow under the heat they were bombarded with from within the creature's stomach. It was terrifying to behold and made him suck in air as it flew down toward the village.

It landed on top of the tower the headman had been set up in front of and released a roar that sent the people around Harry tumbling like tumbleweeds across the ground. The sky filled with dark rumbling cloud before meteors of different size and shape began to pelt the ground and houses around them, shattering the towers and instantly killing any who got in their way.

Harry wasted no time in rolling away from the headsman's block grabbing his executioner's ax. He wasn't new to the whole have his life in peril thing and quickly cut his bonds and stood up to face his attacker. Only the dragon wasn't on the tower anymore. He looked one way and then the other but could only hear its roar and figured the thing had taken into the sky.

"You there," Ralof's voice cut him off and he turned to see the soldier crouched low to the ground. "Come on, the Gods won't give us another chance," the man said before turning to run into a nearby tower. Instinctively the wizard flipped the long handled ax around and slid it into the back of his ragged shirt before chasing after the blonde.

He never saw the pale white stick of Holly resting on the seat of the carriage he had come to Helgen in.

Author's Note: One of the big things people asked me for was a list of the mods being added to Skyrim, a full detailed list of what is going in to the story and I'm happy to oblige.

Mods:

More Draconic Dragon Aspect by Stania (Absolutely Beautiful)

Dragons Diversified by LoginToDownload

Colorful Dragons 3 HD by Luddemann

Bijin Warmaidens by rxkx22

Bijin Wives by rxkx22

Deadly Wenches by Kozuke Hajime

Immersive Wenches by Kozuke Hajime

Touched By Dibella by TheMilkDrinker

Tamaria Soul-Tamer Standalone Mixed Elf Follower 7Base_UNPB_ADEC_CBBE_CHSBHC New Preview Video Added by MissBonjovi

Expanded Towns and Cities by missjennabee

Populated Cities by Pandazooka

Various Armor Mods

Harry's Skyrim Home will start off as Vanilla but will grow as the story goes and the teen begins to make connections and resources throughout the world.