Our tribe had set up a smaller base hidden away in a mine just outside of Evermor to serve as a place of restoration and aid to soldiers of the Stormcloak rebellion in Skyrim. Our support of the Stormcloak uprising has been frowned upon in Orisinum hence our base being outside of blood borders and not visible to the naked eye. Rebels would come crossing from the Skyrim-High Rock border and seek aid and resources from the West. There weren't more than fifteen or so of us in the mine. Narahk sat by his mother's side, tending a soldier's wound. As much as we had hoped for him to form into a true warrior, he turned out to be as gentle as the spring breeze and we had had to give in to his nature. With the best she could, Ghiras was teaching him about Blisterwarts and that sort of thing. Everything seemed quite peaceful until Ghiras' brother Logul noticed the sound of running horses approaching. He ran out to the entrance and we heard a growl and before we had had time to grab our swords, Imperial soldiers had filled up the mine and had us at knife-point against the wall with threads of burning down the entire mine as punishment for our so-called treachery. Logul stepped towards them announcing himself as our chief and offered to let them take him. After a loud-voiced negotiation, they demanded to take all men of the camp in order to leave the women and children unharmed. The six of us agreed to go with them to spare our families the harm. We were bound on our hands and thrown onto different horse carts, mine headed off to Helgen for execution. The half day it took to get across the frozen land of Skyrim, it only grew bigger and darker in my head that I hadn't had the chance to let Ghira and Narahk know that I would do anything in my power to return to them again - but that I now never would.
- Molarg gro-Brolark
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