Quick little One-Shot of a Dragonborn male (Nord), waking up in the world of Skyrim. This is a different beginning sequence than the one the game gives. I don't know - but I thought this would've been an epic beginning! Waking up, disoriented, not a single memory in your brain. :)

Enjoy~

With a startle he woke; limbs carelessly spread, a pounding in his head, and a chill that froze him to his core. The combined cacophony of the birds mixed with his muscles screams of agony overwhelmed him. Shutting his eyes, he attempted to drain all the sounds surrounding him from his mind, focusing on the memories of yesterday. His forehead crinkled and a sharp pain pulsated through his cranium causing him to jolt up. That's when he felt the sensation of damp leaves crumbling underneath, the bitter nip of the air flowing through him; he was unclothed. With a rush of embarrassment he helplessly tried to cover himself with his large calloused hands.

What in the name of the Nine Divines was he doing out in the middle of a forest instead of in the warmth of his cot? Where was his home? Who was he? The headache returning with vengeance and he decided these questions weren't of grave importance now. He needed to get somewhere, find out where in all of Tamriel he could be, and most of all clothe himself. Ears detecting the sounds of flowing water, he lifted himself to his feet and trudged towards the noise. With each inch he crept closer to the source, the jolting pain in his ankle grew. The pot bubbled over with foaming, stinging pain causing his eyes to water. With every step he took, the soreness of his muscle grew and grew until it was as if he was being repeatedly clawed. When the river came into sight, he collapsed on the bank and washed his face with the chilled water.

Stopping for a moment, he took in his reflection: long, dirty, mangled dark brown hair framed a pale face, the thick skin cut and bruised, and black war paint surrounded smudged around his muddy eyes. With a sigh he turned away from the horrific sight and focused on his ankle, which now was pulsating with pain. His fingers grazed the area and with a hiss he pulled back. Cupping some water into his hands, he slowly drizzled the liquid onto his cut. Sorrow crept into his mind and his heart as he thought out his options: 1. He could wait here for someone to find him or 2. He could attempt to walk on his ankle for Divines know how long, until he reached a city or town.

"Gods give me strength." He huffed.

Standing he hobbled over to a tree and leaned against it, this would take him the rest of his time here on Nirn. The rustling of leaves caused him to dive under the brush, ignoring his muscles cries. He peaked out from underneath and spotted a large bear making its way through the rushing water. Adrenaline pumped through him as the bear turned around, its large eyes seemingly guided directly to him. His breathe caught, he didn't dare move an inch; what was he do to now? Should he run? Wait? Attack? As if hearing his thoughts, the animal let out a gruff yawn and continued on its way. It's now or never. He grunted and stood once more to hobble through the dense woods.

Time passed and the skies turned from crisp blues to vibrant shades of orange and red. As he came to the top of a small hill, a large field unfolded in front of him and along with it a delicious scent. The smell of roasted goats leg wafted into his nostrils sending his stomach into a raging fit. He looked into the distance, spotting smoke rising. Hope surged as he took off down the hill ignoring the pains in his leg. As he neared the encampment a thought crossed his mind, what if they were thieves or worse, Assassins? He couldn't take on more than a single bandit in this state, any more and he would surely die. He prayed, asking all the Divines to give him the courage, strength and wisdom to pass the test before him. With that, he snuck up to the camp and peered around; no one occupied the territory. He scanned the area one more time and he still could not find a soul. Had the Gods really blessed him with this much luck? Swiftly he searched the camp coming up with some furs and armor to clothe him, a small dagger, a book of fire spells and a small chicken's breast. Grinning at his findings, he triumphantly wolfed down the chicken breast and darted out of the camp; but not before grabbing some of whomever's ointment and applying it to his ankle. It would not heal the wound but at least numb the pain until he could reach a healer. Feeling smug, he danced as he strode through the woods once more and sung a little song.

"We drink to our youth to the day's come and gone. For the age of oppression is now nearly done."

Humming the rest he relaxed against a tree, the black of night becoming noticed at once. He slid down, soreness and utter exhaustion grabbing hold of his thoughts. I can relax for a moment he concluded, closing his eyes.

He awoke with a start, a booming roar echoed through the forest. His heart thumped wildly as he turned every which way trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Another roar ripped through the air and he staggered, almost tempted to hide. Almost. Unease shivered up his spine, he didn't recognize whatever was making the noise; the roar was foreign. How could there be a call he couldn't recognize? He knew the noise of bears, and of the other animals he'd stumbled upon through the forest. However of this new call he knew nothing and it set him on edge. Another explosion rumbled through the forest, an enormous figure rushed by overhead causing thick winds to blow in its wake. With a start he dashed through the forest, leaping and darting around fallen logs and the like. Reaching the edge he paused, should he go out into the open? He heard the animal bellow again and everything screamed at him to run. He ran out into the field before him, the harsh sound of beating wings followed him. When he looked to the sky the sun blinded his vision, he only made out a large black figure gliding by. Sun spots clouded his sight and he heard something land with a heavy thump before him. He halted when a voice wisped through his mind.

"Dovakiin." It growled.

"What?" He asked, who was speaking to him?

A heavy wind rushed into him causing him to fall back and land hard on his back, the air left his lungs. As he gasped for breathe the voice was heard again,

"You're blood runs with the blood of a Dova, yet you know nothing of what I speak, Nothing of the golden heritage that occupies a mortal body such as yourself? Bah, what a disgrace to the Dov you are." It huffed.

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up he took in the form before him. A large animal stood, its leathery wings draped around its course, blue-green scaled body. Large sharp teeth poked through its lips, horns adorned its head, and large, piercing blood red eyes.

"What are you?" The man breathed.

The dragon snorted, "You know nothing, nothing at all! Simpleton! Disgrace! You bring dukaan to the name of Dov, joor." It spat. " We are Dov, Dovah, Dragons. And you, you vulnerable, puny human have been bestowed the honor of being graced with the blood of the mighty Dov. You are Dovakiin. It is pure waste, to have blessed one so tiny, so ugly, so arrogant, such as yourself with a gift as great as this. You bring dishonor to us mortal, you bring shame." He bellowed.

"That's impossible, Divines save me!" the man cried.

"Miserable insect! I should do Great Alduin the favor of discarding him of your being myself!" The dragon bared its teeth, fire flowed from its savage mouth.

Fear exploded in him and with a rage he shouted, bearing his dagger and charging. The dragon opened its great mouth, fire poured from the depths of its body and the man threw himself to the ground, narrowly missing the scorching flame. He could barely hear shouts and screams over the roar of the dragon, turning left he spotted a group of what seemed like mercenaries running his way. Weapons glinting in the sunlight the group attacked, slicing and stabbing at the dragon's tough skin. It lurched away and with a powerful blow, he waved his wings and took to the skies. Another roar seemed to tear all of Nirn apart, however the group that had saved his life seemed not afraid but smug and confidant. One member brought out a bow and shot at the beast, hitting the terrifying creature in its throat. With a wounded cry, the dragon fell to ground and the group maneuvered, attacking once more. The man however laid still, his limbs frozen with fear; he could only watch the epic battle unfold from afar. The dragon groaned, snatching one of the mercenary in its gnarled claws and tossing him aside. Its tail whipped the majority onto their backs and it took those few moments to climb the skies once more, soaring away from the scene; but not before shouting the man a warning.

"I will be back for you Dova, do not think you are safe from my gaze just yet. I will hunt you down and dispose of you myself!" It roared before disappearing behind far mountains.

A woman, with rust colored hair, teal war paint smothered over her blue eyes and heavy battle armor approached him. He stood, his knees aching from the adrenaline rush.

"Hail, I am Aela The Huntress. You need some toughening up, the Companions is the place for that."

Well I guess it's a start.