"You bet your ass, man." Alright, at least Mugen would be more relaxed before all of them met their Maker. Gweezdo, however, hardly had any time to reply, for the monstruous blade that the headsman wielded thundered against the frail neck of the first prisoner, his bright scarlet blood staining the floor around the chopping block. It was a gruesome sight to see, men who wished to free Skyrim, dying bound and helpless. The lucky ones were those who died as free men, like they truly desired. But still, war was war. Were there mercy to be shown, there wouldn't even be a battle to begin with. The next prisoner didn't exactly crawl to the block like the first one. In fact, this one almost paraded arrogantly towards it, hardly even caring about the strange noise that echoed from the mountain above them. It wasn't surprising for a high elf to behave arrogantly, and nobody among the prisoners seemed to care about his attitude any more than the guards, or even the Thalmor. The bandit, in fact, was more concerned about such a menacing, yet unfamiliar noise seeming so close to them. The Imperials differed, however.
The Imperial Captain pressed her boot against the elf's back as his head was laid on the wooden, bloodied block, and the Headsman raised his axe once again. Gweezdo could feel its heft just from seeing it being slowly lifted. To him, the execution wasn't the worst part, but the fact that all had to watch each other die. The expectation of anguish and pain created fear among most of them, and that was where the cruelty of the Empire's mass executions was.
The young imperial had already lost interest in the executions, and turned away from the sad scene that everyone in the town seemed so eager to witness. Helgen was beautiful, despite the countless troops and Thalmor sellouts in it. Part of Gweezdo felt sad that he never had the joys of a simpler life, spending one weeked inside an inn, gossiping about other people with as few cares in the world as his. But he had already recognized the criminal life as his choice, and it wouldn't be adequate to change his vocation during his own execution. Not to mention he wasn't completely saddened by his choices. It was thanks to those very choices that Gweezdo ended up meeting the gang of Cracked Tusk Keep, his true friends, whose value to him was beyond any loot he could find. "I regret nothing... It was a good run."
Just as he finished his consolation thoughts, the strange thunderish noise was heard again, this time a lot closer. In fact, from closer range, to Gweezdo it did seem like a roar. The ground trembled, causing everyone to lose their balance and, before the imperial knew it, everyone was scattered around the settlement, looking for cover, like ants when their home is destroyed. He took a little longer to realize what was going on. On a tower, above the high elf prisoner, who had somehow survived that far, stood a dragon, dark as the night, roaring words that, to most, were mere nonsense, but held a powerful meaning nonetheless. It was as if the Gods themselves were pouring meteors from the sky, ablaze, crashing upon the fools of Helgen with such power that they seemed as angry as their summoner, the dragon. "We need to get out of here. Now!" Gweezdo heard Sonnex's voice behind him. Where would they go? There were three factions in that village, and none of them was particularly fond of the group. However, standing there was definitely not the way to go.
The chaos had spread among the soldiers like a plague would among the unwashed, quickly and lethally. Gweezdo and chaos never went along very well. Not that all he was feeling was discomfort. No, never. Now, the young bandit was truly, and absolutely terrified. One thing was to die quickly, with his head rolling out of his body into the basket that the imperials had thoughtfully prepared for the occasion. Another, was getting thrown against a wall by a dragon's voice, getting roasted alive, and then getting hit by one of the fiery rocks that showered from the sky to finally end his misery.
Thorar had managed to free himself before anyone else, something that actually relieved Gweezdo, since his binds seemed a lot more uncomfortable than theirs, which were, by no means, pleasant to have around the wrists. He threw a Thalmor into the flames with a satisfied grin, due to, perhaps, being bound in his chains for too long. "Don't just stand there, come on! This way." The bulky man pointed towards one of the keep's towers, their number narrowing as the dragon demolished what it could with a wrath never seen in any human. "Alright, let's move!" Mugen followed up, their thoughts and actions moving at an equal pace, giving them hardly any room for mistakes. Gweezdo was still bound, like probably everyone in the group asides from Thorar, and he wanted to get rid of his ropes as soon as he could, just like his father had taught him. Quickly checking a mental list of the members of the group, the imperial tried to keep up with his faster, more athletic peers, like his life depended on it, which, in fact, was the case. "I saw what you did back there..." He confessed Vaerwen. During the whole time, Gweezdo had thought the 'I kill the executioner' thing was just a joke. The man was probably just doing his job, so, to him, there weren't really any reasons to prioritize him as a target to kill.
While the group got closer to the tower, Gweezdo's eyes were caught by a powerful light, a meteor, that crashed straight against a legionnaire's thorax, putting an end to him coldly and quickly. On his corpse, the rock still stood ablaze, its heat being so intense, it hissed and distorted the sight of any who looked at the area around it. That was a plan. A foolish one, but a plan. Gweezdo knew the archers were keeping the beast occupied, and felt like he had a chance. Silently, he left the group, sprinting towards the corpse with all the agility he could muster. In the man's sheath was an Imperial Sword, the common brand most imperials wielded in battle. Trapping its hilt between his bound wrists, the panicking bandit managed to pull the blade out of the corpse. All his brain could think was: "Quick, quick, quick, quick, quick, quick, quick! You're gonna die!" but it didn't stop him or slow down his terrified sprint as he tried to catch up with the group he wished he had never left in the first place.
He extended the stolen blade to his muscled friend, the one he knew for sure to be unbound. "Thorar... can you...? Well... Cut us free once we are safe?"