Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

A

~.Ari.~

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SIGN-UP THREAD: http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/showthread.php?t=15214


And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled. Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world!

The harsh and snowy land of Skyrim has fallen into chaos. The High King... shouted to death, a rebellion has erupted, brothers are killing brothers, and on top of it all... the dragons are back and wreaking havoc across the region. Alduin, the World-Eater, is flying across Skyrim, traveling to the ancient dragon burials to resurrect his fallen kin... the Dark Brotherhood is on the rise... the Thieves Guild is once again getting a strong foothold in the land of Tamriel.. rumors of appearances of the Psyjic Monks are circulating... and the dead..? They're having trouble staying that way.

Who are you? What will you become? You can travel all across the harsh and snowy terrain of Skyrim, delve into the depths of the ancient Nordic ruins. What will you do?



 
"Oh, stay in one place, would you..?" Anja grumbled as she drew her bow again to aim at the stag grazing up ahead. And what a beautiful stag he was. Large antlers, strong legs, and a meaty body that was just right. This would make for a good feast. She took aim again, closing one eye to make for a more accurate fire... and then she let the string slip from beneath her index and middle fingers. The black arrow struck the beast right in the chest. The stag whinnied, then bucked upward before running off, but tripping over a rock. When it hit the ground, this pushed the arrow further into the beast's chest, piercing it's heart. A silent grin creeped upon her lips and she lifted herself into a standing position and hound her bow over her back. Aela will be pleased, she though as she marveled over the size of her kill. She placed a hand on the stag's chest, positioning it so that the arrow was in between her thumb and index finger. She grasped the arrow as close as she could to the still-warm body, then yanked the arrow upwards while pushing down on the carcass. The arrow was pulled from the flesh and Anja fell backwards, landing on her hum with a firm thump. She placed the arrow back into the quiver and stood, brushing her armour off with quiet, incoherent mumbles.

"Oh.." as she stood, she looked at the size of the carcass before her, then at herself. She had a small stature: slender frame, and was probably only just over five feet tall. But she could carry more than her own weight, and could definitely hold her own in a fight. But.. how the hell was she supposed to haul her kill back to Jorrvasker on her own? "Damn." she huffed, then bent over and grabbed the beast by it's antlers, then started hauling it, slowly, but surely towards Whiterun, a small trail of blood left on the path that she heaves the carcass along on.
 
Nahvikin ran through the woods just outside of Whiterun. She was out of breath and being chased down by bandits. Though she was a master assassin, confrontation wasn't her thing. Nor were bandits. They caught her off gaurd and killed her horse. Which, incedently held her contract money. It was a great deal of gold, and now they were after her head and armor. Both fetching a good price with the Jarls in all nine holds.

Eventually, Nahvikin spotted blood, and fresh tracks. Her instinct was to follow this path, as it usually meant a friendly group of hunters willing to help a damsel in distress. So she veered to the right, the bandits trailing behind her pretty fast. Looking behind her for only a second, she bumped into something or someone, landing on her butt. Looking up, she noticed another girl dragging a dead stag. A great kill. So she assumed hunter. Getting up, she drew her bow in the direction of the bandits and looked at the girl with pleading eyes. "There are bandits after me. Will you help fend them off?" She asked, a look of despair plain across her face. There were too many of them to fend off. "There are at least 20 men after me. I understand if you'd want to run off." Before she finished her sentence, she released the arrow as the first of the bandits charged after her, hitting him right between the eyes. "Our odds are better if your good with that bow." She said, eying the girl with fantastic armour.
 
Anja tumbled head first over her kill, ending up laying flat on her back beside the carcass. "Oi.." she groaned, rubbing her head as she sat upright. The girl didn't seem much older than she. She was out of breath, obviously had been running for a while. As this mystery girl readied her bow, Anja had only just started recuperating from her fall. Yeah, the fall might've not been much, but she wasn't expecting to be bumped into. Then again, not many people expect that sort of thing. She continued to rub her head as she listened as best she could. The girl was talking so fast that Anja could barely understand.

She was able to gather that she was being chased, so Anja hopped up as quickly as she could, then reached behind her back to grip her palm around her bow. Anja could tell that thus girl definitely needed her help... so that was what she was going to do: help. She wasn't a hunter, or a great markswoman... but if it was necessary, well, by the Divines, she could do it. "Of course I'll help," she grinned. The carcass needed to be bled a bit anyway. Might relieve some of the weight off of it. Also, it was her duty as a Companion to help others in need. Yeah, they usually do it for coin, but no matter the situation, Anja was willing to help -- whether she pocketed some gold or not. Honour was more important to her, so was helping people. She readied her bow, knocking an arrow and drawing back her string. She aimed down her sight at an oncoming bandit, and let loose the string. It was a hit, right in the neck. She grinned and readied another arrow.
 
It was a rather cold and dreary day for traveling, but Criston needed to get a move on. He hadn't a clue when he'd get to this famed 'College of Winterhold' and wasn't sure exactly the way to get there, but he was determined to find it.
He wandered alone and bored down a long stretch of lightly forested road, sighing heavily. He wasn't quite sure where this area was, but he sure hoped he'd find a town or signs of friendly life somewhere soon.
He sneezed once then frowned and hugged his coat closer around his shoulders.
This was going to be a long day...
 
"Keep up, Schemer, quit stopping to sniff everything." Selene called behind her. A rather scruffy-looking dog looked up, hesitated, then followed her at a quick loping gate. The cold Skyrim air bit through Selene's fur-lined leather garb and she shivered, pulling her arms closer to her sides while still holding the reins of her horse, Goddess. The black tobiano mare trotted along at a quick pace, eager to find a stable where she could eat and at least be a little warmer. It'd take more than a chilly day to stop the mare, though.
Surely Whiterun can't be much further. The Bosmer thought with a grimace. I could go for a pint of mead about now. A snort ruptured the girl's yearning thoughts and she turned, alert, scanning the area. Goddess had clearly seen something. Schemer had halted next to the girl and her horse, immobile. Selene caught a glimpse of a man walking the road ahead, alone. She and her animal friends began to follow him, lingering far behind, but still with the man in sight and earshot.
 
Nahvikin admired the first shot, which struck the man's neck. Seeing more bandits pop out, Nahvikin readied her bow, notching in three arrows. Timing it perfectly, she hit three in the chest. Not wasting any time, her instinct pulling her into a predatory state, she notched another arrow, waiting for another to pop out. That's when her real target popped out. She had made the bandits chase her to lure the real thief out. Though, she did not expect so many bandits to follow. Luckily, she stumbled across the female hunter.

Wanting the bonus to her contract, Nahvikin released her arrow into another bandit on horse. Grabbing her daggers, she sprinted toward the target. This startled him as she slashed out at his chest. She was quick and agile, allowing him to only block her onslaught. After a few minutes, hoping that the girl was taking care of the rest, she stabbed the target in the chest. He fell back, gripping his chest. It was over. She had the upperhand and the drive to finish him off. Grabbing a dagger from her pack, enchanted with fire magic, she cut off the guys head. The magic made a clean cut, and kept it from bleading out. Wrapping it in cloth, she walked over to the other girl.

"Ahh," she screamed out as an arrow was lodged into her back. A man had stayed hidden and waited till Nahvikin had her back turned. She fell to the ground, dropping the serated head. In a matter of seconds, she was on the ground and unconscious.
 
Criston continued down his path, hardly noticing anyone around or anyone behind him. He was too concerned with his walking, hoping to find somewhere warm where he could rest soon.
It was so cold and getting colder still it seemed and Criston was starting to wonder if traveling under these conditions was just a bad idea.
He was certain if he kept up this pace then the chill in the air and the lack of food would soon take him out. But he kept on, not wanting to pass out in the middle of the road. That would end badly.
He sucked it up and kept walking, wondering now just how long it actually was since he had his last meal. He hadn't seen any wildlife to hunt in quite a while so that made it worse.
Sighing, he slowed his pace slightly, praying for food and sight of a town.
 
Selene kicked Goddess's ribs gently, making the horse move faster. They drew close to the man, Schemer not far behind. The trio still moved quietly, but Selene had sensed the man was close to exhaustion. His gait seemed bleak, although quick. She felt the urge to help the man, but she had barely enough food for herself and Schemer, and he could be hostile toward them.
Best to follow until he sees me, I suppose. She decided. Or until I see some game. Quickly, she scanned the area for any manner of food; elk, fox, wolf, even rabbit would suffice. Hunger gnawed at her belly but she knew not where the nearest town or settlement was, and it wouldn't do to eat now and starve later. She could bear her hunger for a bit longer, at least.
Selene returned her focus to the man ahead of her, watching him, analyzing him for weaknesses.
 
Three? Anja marveled at the girl with raised brows as she nocked three arrows, then fired, all three, and they each hit a target. Perhaps I can have her teach me that as some form of recompense. Anja chuckled, and with that, placed her bow upon her back and drew both of her swords. Daedric, they were; enchanted with flames. She grinned as she took a widened stance, readying her swords and spreading her legs before charging forward and slashing one sword at an oncoming bandit. She let her body follow through with this motion, yelling and closing her eyes as blood splattered over her face. As she came around, her other sword went with her and sliced through his flesh again. She then spit out a glob of red -- blood from the bandit that had managed to get into her mouth as she had yelled.

She parried any oncoming attacks with ease, grinning as the girl's arrows were striking the men down one by one. Anja froze as she her a grunt and a scream behind her. She knew that none of the bandits had gotten past her... she dug the end of her blade into the throat of the last bandit, who was armed with a bow. She twisted the hilt to severe the man's jugular and send him to the ground. She instantly turned around to find her new companion hit -- struck with an arrow. The girl had fallen, but hadn't fully subdued to the arrow's blow. Anja sheathed her bloodied blades and darted towards the girl, who was now unconscious.

"Oh, hell.." she groaned. Now, she'd have to lug both her kill, and the girl back to Whiterun with her. It was nearing night, and she couldn't leave a fresh buck carcass bleeding so close to Whiterun -- the Companions already had enough trouble with wolves. They didn't need any more. Anja picked the girl up and heaved her over her shoulder. Now, due to her small stature, this was a rather strenuous task. But she was always trying to prove herself to her Shield-Siblings, so why not take this golden opportunity to do so? Keeping an arm around the unconscious girl, and her free hand gripped tightly around the leg of the buck, she slowly, but surely, made her way to the Whiterun gates. I have to get her to the temple of Kynareth, Anja began to think as she trudged and grunted along. Anja only knew the basic health restoration spell, and that wouldn't be enough to bring the unconscious girl to.

"Anja!" one of the Whiterun guards shouted as she came into sight. "What a kill. And a captive? I didn't think the Companions worked that way." the guard spoke in his thick Nordic accent, raising a brow behind his helmet while crossing his arms across his chest. "We don't," she said, letting out a light cough as she came to a halt. Her breath exited her mouth in quick, short pants during her rest, "She's wounded. And unconscious. Bringing her to the priestess of Kynareth." she then said in a less strained tone, then flashed the guard her signature quirky smile. "Hah-hah... you go on, then. We'll take the carcass to Jorrvaskr, you take care of that girl." Anja nodded at their agreement, and left her kill where it lay to carry the girl on up to the temple.

Her breathing had become slightly laboured, but she didn't want it to show. It did, anyway, but he didn't want to give up, either. The girl was larger than she, but it was clear that Anja had the strength to carry out the task. This made her grin, and as she entered the temple, the priestess immediately rushed over to her. "W-what happened?" the priestess asked, before motioning Anja over to one of the stone beds that circle the middle of the temple. Anja rested the girl's body gently upon one, then let out a sigh through her teeth as the pressure was eleviated from her shoulder, back, and legs. And what a relief that was. "Bandits. Got her in the back with an arrow. She immediately fell unconscious." Anja nodded towards the girl, then the priestess nodded in reply. The priestess made her way to the edge of the bed and plucked the arrow from the girl's back, then faced her palms towards the girl. As a slightly golden light, decked with sparkles and the faintest sound of tinkling bells sounded off, the girl began to heal.
 
Decimus pulled the last arrow out of his quiver. Better make it count. He thought to himself. A skirmish was raging between his Imperial brethren and the Stormcloak rebels in the woods north of Whiterun. Decimus notched an arrow into the bow and drew the cord to his ear. Most archers did not use their bows like this, but Decimus had been trained differently. A regular archer would only draw the cord to their cheek. Drawing the cord to your ear gave the bow more strength. It gave the arrow more range and piercing power. But then you could not aim directly down the arrow, as most archers relied on. After years of practice, an archer trained in this method just knew where the arrow was going to fly. There was no aiming, instead the archer willed the arrow where he wanted it to fly.

Decimus found a target and loosed. The arrow sailed and hit a Stormcloak wielding an axe in the throat. He reveled in his kill for a moment then dropped the bow and drew his imperial sword. It was not a special weapon in the slightest. But to Decimus, a reliable imperial sword was the most formidable weapon of all. He charged into the fray to meet a Stormcloak soldier who just bashed in the skull of one of his fellow legionnaires with a two handed warhammer. The Stormcloak took a wild swing at Decimus who easily ducked and moved in past his guard. He forcibly jammed the tip of his sword into the Stormcloaks torso. "Now you get to see you're whore mother in Sovngarde!" He mocked the Stormcloak before he died.

It was for that very reason Decimus preferred to be flexible and elected to be issued the light armor instead of the heavy armor his comrades normally chose. While he preferred to be agile, and was, it was not his strongest ability. Decimus was strong and his fighting style with a sword could be desribed as "simple" by the looks of it. A Stormcloak slashed at his side and grazed it as he was wrenching his sword out of the Stormcloak he had just killed. The slash drew blood and he cried out in pain. "Bastard!" Decimus exclaimed.

It was for that reason that maybe light armor was not such a good idea. He parried the next strike at the last second and made a slash for the Stormcloak's throat which was successful. Decimus smiled at his victory. Looking down to his side, he realized he was bleeding profusely. His world began to fade into black....


Decimus awoke in a room with pillars. He did not recognize the surroundings. It was certainly no legion barracks. Decimus realized he was shirtless. He sat up and looked at his side. The wound was completely healed but a light scar was left behind. "Hello! Where am I?" He asked nobody in particular. Two women were standing over a another lying down near him. The one in priestess robes was healing the unconscious girl.

"Whiterun. This is the Temple of Kynareth. You were wounded in battle and almost died. " A female voice said to his right. He turned and saw a another woman dressed in priestess robes.

"You were brought here by your fellow legionnaires. Your belongings are over there. I took the liberty of mending your armor and washing out the blood. Your commander has ordered that you report back to your unit once you are well." The priestess said to him and walked away.

"Damn." Decimus said to no one in particular. Angry that he allowed himself to be wounded. But then realized he did not have to report back to his unit right away. They would not find out if he took some leisure time. He had some money and could afford to spend the night at drinking at the inn. The legionnaire turned over to watch the two women next to him care for the other unconscious woman.
 
Criston was walking slower than ever now and finally decided enough was enough.
He sighed and looked around for a place to rest. Soon finding a nice big rock, he sighed and sat down, laying back against the rock.
"Hoo boy," he huffed, "It's so cold here.."
He shivered and held his coat tightly, deeply regretting this little 'vacation' he was on if he could even call it that. He was still hungry and more miserable now than he had ever been before in his life.
Well, he thought, Maybe I'll feel better... after a little rest.
He struggled to stay awake as he continued resting on the rock he had found.
 
Selene decided that if the stranger wasn't hostile, she'd let him ride with her to Whiterun. It wouldn't do to leave him in the dust to die, that was unethical, especially in these times. The people of Skyrim needed to band together and retaliate against the Imperial and the Thalmor threats.
She brought Goddess to a slower gait and they walked up to the rock where they halted, looking down at the tired man. Schemer was closer than the other two, breathing into the man's ear.
"Hail, stranger. Don't you know it's not wise to travel Skyrim alone? If the wolves, frostbite spiders, and bandits don't get you, the cold will." She attempted to strike up a conversation. Perhaps she could at least learn a little about this seemingly senseless man, perhaps his intentions in Skyrim and whether or not he would be friend or foe.
 
Nahvikin fell in and out of consciousness. She had worked well with potions and poisons to know that she was hit with a poisonous arrow. She could tell it was serious. Her natural immunities were just strong enough to keep her alive. As she was in consciousness, she had dreams of the past. Of times spent with her family. Valenwood. And her childhood friend, Jahvin. But that was interupted when she awoke, this time at the gates of Whiterun.

Once they were in the city, Nahvikin knew she would be taken to the Temple of Kynareth (hope that's how it's spelled). "NO," she said weakly, out of breath and in pain. "Take me somewhere more secret. No one will know the cure. I have an agreement with the Jarl. Take me to Dragon..." she didn't finish as she felt the darkness yet again consume her. This time, it was nightmares. Of her home burning down and screams as her village was being overun by the Imperials.
 
"What happened to you?" Anja asked the man eyeing her and Nahvikiin with an eyebrow perked in curiosity, her thick Nordic accent rolling off her tongue smoothly. He looked strong. But not like a mercenary. No. That must've been his armour back on the bench. An Imperial, she thought, almost outloud, but her thoughts were curtious enough to stay in her mind. She hadn't taken a side. She thought the whole civil dispute was rather ridiculous. The Imperials had valid points, but so did the Stormcloaks. The whole mess hurt her head to think about it, so she always decided to stay right away from it, and be on Anja's side. Anja's side... she repeated her thoughts with a subtle giggle. She liked the sound of that. It seemed vain in a way, but she figured that since she was keeping it to herself, her ego wouldn't be concerned. Or perhaps it would. She found herself shrugging at her own inner conversation, then froze in place as she realized it. A pink colour flushed over her ivory toned cheeks as she looked at the man, then down at Nahvikiin, who was still being healed by the priestess.
 
Issac had been resting up in the bannered mare in Whiterun trying to dig up information on his contract. What better place to get gossip by bribing bartenders and patrons? The day had proved fruitful. He now knows his target is in Whiterun and that he'd been lucky to start here. Now he just needed a name and then he'd be off.

He retired from gathering up the information today and rested for the rest of the evening. The sun was setting as he walked outside and it looked beautiful, but his attention was pulled away by a champion of some sort, most likely a companion, dragging a body. Upon closer inspection the body had an arrow wound and looking at the condition she was in, it was probably poisoned for a regular arrow wound wouldn't have knocked someone out like that.

Looking closer it was a child of Sithis, a member of the dark brotherhood. "Damn that girl." Issac cursed under his breath. How stupid of her to be in such a shape. If she hadn't been caught like that she would already be on her way back to the sanctuary. Issac took it upon himself to follow them and conceal her identity. Haste was of the utmost importance since he had a contract to eliminate while watching over her. Issac followed the girl and the companion, slinking in and out of the shadows and alleyways.
 
Criston snapped to attention as a woman's voice perked up and said something.
To him?
He sat up straight suddenly and looked around before resting his eyes on a strange lady in front of him. She was on a horse and was now staring at him, apparently expecting an answer.
"Oh," he said, "I'm sorry, miss. First of all.. Hello. My name is Criston."
He rubbed his head and pushed his hair from his eyes before continuing, "Ah yes.. I was.. probably foolish to be traveling out here alone like I was. I wasn't thinking clearly it seems. Oh but I'm glad you found me or I probably wouldn't have lived til tomorrow."
He let out a nervous chuckled, then a sigh, "Where um.. where are you headed, miss?"
 
Decimus realized he had been staring. He was trying to gain his bearings then spaced out for a moment. The girl had glanced at his armor and he wondered how she was judging him right now. Many in this land were split between their support for the Stormcloaks and the Empire. But currently Whiterun was Imperial territory as the Jarl was friendly to their cause. Decimus also found her blushing strange.

"I'm in the legion. My unit took part in a skirmish against the Stormcloaks north of here. I was wounded. Least I managed to kill the bastard who did it before I blacked out. Stormcloak swine." He said to the girl. Decimus saw her bow and weapons concluded she was some kind of warrior. He decided to stand up and strap on his armor. He had dropped his bow at the battle but the imperial sword was here. After quickly inspecting the blade he sheathed it and strapped it back on to his belt. The battered legionnaire helmet Decimus owned was there too and he picked it up.

"You look like a mercenary. How's it pay? I never cared much for this war. But the legion puts food in my belly and coins in my pocket. They'll have me as long as I kill for them and luckily I'm quite good at it." Decimus said to her. "And what happened to her?" He added.
 
The morning sun began to peak over the mountain that shielded the sleepy town of Riverwood. As the wildlife began to chirp and sing the small population of the town began waking up. The routine work for the men of the mill and blacksmith were no different today as they ventured out of their homes leaving families or others behind to take care of the home. The only lively spot in the town was Sleeping Giant Inn and Tavern. A loud thud was heard from outside as a heavy foot came marching up the steps and entered the warm tavern. A large fire pit was in the center and music was being played by the bard in the area. When Dash made his way in the music stopped and the owner let out a small cry at the sight of him. Dash walked over to the nearest table to his left and sat down. He enjoyed the warm fire that was to his back when a hand patted him on his back and the owner of that hand sat next to him and spoke.

"Say there sir...new around here? Looks like you've had some trouble huh?" Dash did not do or say much but felt that it would be best not to cause a scene. He gave it some thought before answering the questionable man who was now plunging deeper in his ale.

"Yes..some trouble but I made it here. If you were so kind to share some of that ale..I would gladly give you my tale."

"Sure thing." Answered the man as he handed him his cup. Dash quickly took it and gulped down the rest and slammed the empty cup on the table top before wiping his face. "I haven't had good ale in some time friend, here ill tell you how I got here."

The few nights alone in the wilderness of Skyrim brought Dash death and misfortune. From when his journey began he ran into some legion troops who stopped and harassed him. Asking if he was part of the storm cloak rebellion against the empire. He may have been in the wilderness for his entire life but word got around that the empire was squeezing the northern people even tighter and a rebellion sparked. He has not chosen either side, he had other things on his mind when he heard of this before. his attention went back to the man who asked and he laughed at the idea and spoke back clearly.

"If I was one of them you all would not have noticed me." He spoke in his native Nord accent. He was always against the authority but this time he was in way over his head as they began swarming him and beating him into submission. He had no time to act, only time to defend blows from the feet of his attackers. When they were finished a few of them spat on his face and body and left him on the side of the road. His body was badly injured but he was able to stand, one day he would hope to stand against the lot of them.

A passing day later he met a family of three who were venturing to Whiterun to make it home for the seasons harvest. The father, mother and young girl were very kind and fed Dash what little they had for in turn nothing more than his company. Later that night he had an idea to go out and hunt for them some live stock in favor of them treating him so kind. A present, he thought as he began tracking a small white rabbit. It was only in a matter of minutes that he was able to capture his live prey and ring its neck, killing it instantly. He smiled in triumph as he began working his way back to camp.

When he became near something bothered him and he stopped. Sniffing the cold air he could smell the odor of blood, fresh blood. He dropped the rabbit on a small patch of snow and quietly pulled out his fathers blade. A simple blade but the sharpness was unheard of. He moved forward til he was at the foot of the camp and became aware of what happened. The father was hunched over with his blade to his side and blood covered the area around him. He saw over near the fire that the mother too was dead in a position of shielding their young girl. Dash walked over to see that the child was also dead and he began to wonder who would do such a thing. It didn't take him long to notice two tracks on the ground that lead his eyes to the darkness of the forest, past a few tree to the red eyes of a wolf. His guard went up as he knew the pattern well from hunting them as a boy. He turned around in time to see a large wolfs face covered in fresh blood snapping towards his throat. He dropped his body as fast as he could and positioned his blade to the wolfs chest. The wolf missed his neck and landed ontop of Dashs blade. With the weight of the wolfs pushing down the blade pierced its chest and heart. A loud howl and thud was heard as the wolfs dead weight fell on top of Dash. He quickly began inching out from under his dead attacker when he heard another loud howl and could see the second white wolf charging down the hill towards him. He took one last push out from under the dead wolf and grabbed his blade, putting his back towards the fire he prepared his defense against his attacker. The wolf leaped over his dead member and charged at his preys chest. Dash waited til the wolf was inches away before evading him and falling to his side. He turned to see the aftermath as the wolf landed right into the large fire pit. the flames burning some of its beautiful fur off as the wolf began his escape whimpering away into the night.

Dash regained his breath and rested for a moment before doing the right thing. He buried all three together in a small spot of land near the trail and gave them their last words before pushing on. It was another day of non stop walking to he made it to the small town of Riverwood. He was without food or money but he made it somewhere to get out of the cold and the idea of death just for one day.

When Dash finished his story he turned and looked at the shocked look of his new friend. The man turned to the bar keep and shouted out. "Bring two more ales and have a room for this man!" Maybe things were beginning to turn around..