Skyrim: Bastion Narrator Edition

Ever tell you how The Kid got himself wrapped up in this mess to begin with?
Not every kid's born bad.
Fair to say he's led a hard life...
supposin' what he says in his sleep ain't no lie.
All The Kid had to work with was his hammer and the clothes on his back.
Lady: This pendant would look lovely on my sister-
Stabby: The Reach belongs to the Forsworn!
Lady: Noooough!
Guy: Never shoulda come here!
People (together): I cannot best you!
He never knew his folks.
Plague took 'em.
Grelod: None of you riff raff is getting adopted EVER!
Grelod: Nobody needs you. Nobody wants you.
The city had nothin' for him.
Kid learned to fend for himself.
Took to stealin' from a missionary living there.
Missionary: That's close enough.
The security takes him for a petty thief.
Riften Guard: You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people.
Riften Guard: What say you in your defense?
Must've been guardin' that shrine.
Riften Guard: I guess you're smarter than you look.
Folks who fouled up would do their time here.
All Kid can do... is wait.
Well, if the gods are alive, they must be plenty sore.
Guard: Alright, there gonna...
you're gonna...
get executed.
Kid ain't the only one.
Ralof: EEEP!
Ralof: This is Helgen.
Ralof: I used to be sweet on a girl from here.
Ralof: I wonder if V. Lard is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in.
Ralof: Funny. When I was a boy, the Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.
Boy: Who are they, Daddy? Where are they going?
Kid hasn't a clue.
Father: You need to go inside, little tub.
Boy: Why? I wanna watch the soldiers.
Not like this.
Father: Inside the house. Now.
Donkey Puller: Whoa!
Boy: Yes, papa.
Skank: Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!
Lokir: Why are we stopping?
Ralof: Why do you think? End of the line.
Now he lands at the intersection between bad and wrong.
Ralof: Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.
He gets up.
Lokir: No! Wait! We're not rebels!
Ralof: Face your death with some courage, thief.
Lokir: You've got to tell them, weren't with you!
Lokir: This is a mistake!
Skank: Step towards the block when we call your names. One at a time!
Ralof: *sigh* Empire loves their damn lists.
Hadvar: Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.
Ralof: It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.
Hadvar: Ralof of Riverwood.
And there he is...
The Arm of Justice.
Hadvar: Lokir of Rorikstead.
Lokir: No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!
Some folks wound up taking the coward's way out.
Skank: Halt!
Lokir: You're not gonna kill me!
Skank: Archers!
Lokir: Yarg!
Skank: Anyone else feel like running?
No ma'am.
Hadvar: Wait. You there. Step forward.
Kid had little choice.
Hadvar: Who are you?
*SMOOCH!*
Well, now it's personal.
Hadvar: You fum Daggerfall, Breton?
NO!
Hadvar: Fleeing from some court intrigue?
Not entirely.
Hadvar: Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list.
Captain Skank: Forget the list. He goes to the block.
Hadvar: By your orders, Captain.
Hadvar: I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock.
Hadvar: Follow the cat pen, prisoner.
Tullius: Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero.
Tullius: But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.
Tullius: You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos!
Tullius: And now The Empire is going to PUT YOU DOWN *breathes in* and restore the peace!
Ulfric's a talkative sort.
Least he used to be.
*whale noises*
Hadvar: What was that?
Kid's wonderin' the same thing.
Tullius: It's nothing. Carry on.
Skank: Yes, General Tullius. Give them their Last Rites.
Missionary: As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you. (interrupted)
Mr. Smug: For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with.
Missionary: Our... as you wish.
He ain't big on small talk.
Smuggy: Come on! I haven't got all morning!
Well, no point explainin' what happens next... right?
Smuggy: My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?
And just like that...
Didn't make it.
I'd like to say I'll never forget 'im.
Well, what does it matter...
Skank: Next! The Breton!
Then Kid gets the feelin' he's being watched.
*sexy whale noises*
Hadvar: There it is again. Did you hear that?
Skank: I said... next... PRISONER!
Hadvar: To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.
Random Lady: You Imperial bastards!
Kid does what he has to do.
*FOOMP!*
Surprised Guard: What in Oblivion is that?!
*WORMP*
They used to think dragons were extinct.
Skank: Sentries, what do you see?
Well...
They ain't.
Some Lady: DRAGON!!
One of them's been living in the tall grass.
Dragon: YEAH!!!
And then...
Executioner: Huag!
He falls to his death.
Old Man: Guards! Get these townspeople to *dies*
Kid ain't about to pass out in the middle of the fight.
Guard: By Ysmir, nothing kills it!
It's a troublesome scene to be sure.
*rabble rabble*
Ralof: This way!
They never saw him comin'.
Not that it matters anymore.