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Een vertaalprobleem melden
mountain pass. All are seated and bound; the one dressed in finery is gagged.]
Ralof: Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border,
right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that
thief over there.
Lokir: D**n you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was
nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen
that horse and been half way to Hammerfell. You there. You and me — we
should be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.
Ralof: We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.
Imperial Soldier: Shut up back there!
Lokir: And what’s wrong with him?
Ralof: Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High
King.
Lokir: Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if
they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?
Ralof: I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.
Lokir: No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.
Ralof: Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?
Lokir: Why do you care?
Ralof: A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.
Lokir: Rorikstead. I’m…I’m from Rorikstead.
Imperial Soldier: General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!
General Tullius: Good. Let’s get this over with.
Lokir: Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me.
Ralof: Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like
the Thalmor are with him. D**n elves. I bet they had something to do
with this.
This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod
is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny…when I
was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.
[A man and son watch the prisoners pull into town.]
Haming: Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?
Torolf: You need to go inside, little cub.
Haming: Why? I want to watch the soldiers.
Torolf: Inside the house. Now.