Chapter 1: Beginning

Author's note: This is my first fan-fiction story, to be released in a chapter format; a new chapter each week. It is based on the video game "Skyrim" and a custom race created for the game, "Lunari Race" by Skyrim Nexus member bhaktisean. Permission was given for the use of the custom race in the following story:

4E 182, 3 Frostfall

In the fourth era, year 182, 3 of Frostfall, and an elven woman was traveling through the land of Skyrim under the cover of night. It was cold, as Skyrim always is, but the moon gave a dim light to the land. She carried no torch, walking in darkness, and her eyes flitted back and forth across the path she traveled. The woman was a Lunari elf, a descendant from the unlikely union of a Nord and Sun'Li tree elf. It was only a few years after the war with the Aldmeri Dominion had ended, and anti-elven sentiment was at a boiling high...

She walked quickly through the forest of Falkreath, staying far from the road, and staying near the coast of Lake Ilinalta. The forest was quiet, and in the moonlight she could barely see fifteen feet ahead. The the forest was eerily quiet, no birds, no animals made a sound. She was nearly around the lake when a voice called out from the darkness: "Well, well, what have we here?". Three large Nords were blocking her path. "An elf by the looks of it."

"And not just any elf, a Lunari viper," called out another. "I'll bet she's come to Skyrim to spread more of her filth."

"Please", the woman asked, "let me go". As she spoke, her hand slowly moved to the hilt of the dagger on her hip, but stayed just above it.

"Oh I don't think so elf," a woman spat from behind her, "Your kind has caused enough trouble, I think it's time you paid for your sins." The woman had crept up behind her without her noticing. Now four Nords had surrounded her, each with a sword in hand. The forest trees didn't offer much room to maneuver; every direction she turned she faced a new blade. The wolves circled viciously. "Please", she repeated again, but this time as a distraction. As soon as she had said it, she whipped the dagger from its sheath and leapt at the nearest Nord, driving the blade deep into his throat. He gurgled and looked at her with fear in his eyes, but she had leapt off him and spun around to parry a blow aimed at her head. Her blade was like a serpent's fangs, biting and cutting any who got too close, but she was being hemmed in. Were it not for the bundle in her arm, she would have made short work of the Nords, but she was protecting it with her life. Now she was backed against a tree, fighting desperately to survive. She dodged a swipe at her legs, parried one to her chest, and pricked the hand that sent it. She parried high blow at the temple and moved to block another; as steel was driven between her ribs, pinning her to the tree. None had heard the child's cries as the bloodlust was upon them, but as the woman slumped down, the three remaining Nords saw the babe she still held on to.

"Another?" The Nords looked on incredulously. "I say we kill this one too. I saw enough elves fighting the Dominion, Skyrim doesn't need any more."

"Is that so?" A large Orc in Imperial armor stood behind them, just a few yards away. Through the dim light, it was just possible to see the gleam of an arrow, notched and drawn to the speaker's jaw. "All I see are a few barbaric Nords, fighting a war that ended years ago. I think I saw enough Nords in the war with the Aldmeri", he said as he let the arrow fly into the chest of the woman.

"Silvi!" One of the men cried out as he charged at the orc, holding both his sword and that of the woman. As soon as he got close, the Orc drew his own battleaxe, parried the man's attack, and lopped off his head. The other Nord tried to run, but the Orc picked up his bow, and shot him through the heart.

"Ma'am?" The Orc rushed over to the Lunari woman, pulling her off the tree. He left the blade in, to extend her life, but he had no potion to preserve it. "Ma'am? It's okay now, they're all dead," he glanced around, "or dying." She struggled for every breath, in obvious pain, but still she clutched the child in her arms.

"Please..." she gasped, "take care of her." The Orc looked in surprise as she handed him the small child, but he did not refuse. "Call her... Selene..."

4E 183, 13 Morning Star

An Orc man rode through the Reach, following the river Karth past the city of Markarth. He rode quickly, on a sturdy-horse, that appeared to have seen it's share of battle, judging from the scars on it's flanks. He stopped a short distance from the city and crossed the river. Up he rode, passing through a small valley and coming upon a small ruin on the cliff overlooking the river. He dismounted, and took things from his horse: a Nord man bound in chains, and a small bundle, from which faint cries were heard. He had found his home.

4E 201, 7 Second Seed

Selene woke to the smell of apple and cabbage stew, steeping in the cooking pot. A gruff Orc, sitting on a wooden bench, stirred the pot and lifted the ladle to his lips for taste. "Rorgul!" Selene moaned, "I told you not to let me sleep so late today! Thronir was going to take me hunting!"

"Ah you needed the rest," Rorgul replied, "besides, you don't eat venison anyways. Why else would I be cooking this"—he pointed at the stew—"except for you?" Rorgul, as you may have guessed, was the Orc in Imperial armor that night. He was in the Legion during the war with the Dominion, and he was passing through Falkreath hold the night Selene's mother was killed. He retired from the Legion after the war; he has no family, but considers Selene his daughter.

"Oh Rorgul, I know you're trying to take care of me, but how will I ever get better with the bow if all I do is practice with targets all day? You promised you would teach me to become the 'best archer in all Skyrim'. I can't do that shooting pots all day." She got up quickly, and brushed off her furs.

"Here," the Orc said, handing her a bowl of stew, "it's just finished."

"Thanks Rorgul", Selene replied, sitting on the stone floor to eat. "And I'm sorry for snapping at you, I just really wanted to go today. I'm already nineteen, and you told me last year I'd be able to go hunting this year." She looked up at him with her icy blue eyes, "I just want to help provide food for you. You've been taking care of me for nineteen years, the least I can do is watch out for you now. You're almost sixty!"

"Uh, don't remind me," the old Orc said, "most Orcs have died in the glory of battle by the time they reach my age, but I'm sitting here, cooking stew for an elf. A pretty elf", he said, giving her a wink. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if..."

"We're back!" A young Bosmer man walked into the room with a deer across his back. "And look at this! If it isn't the beautiful maiden of my dreams waiting for me!" He looked at Selene teasingly and spoke again, "You, my princess of the forest, come to my arms! I await the feel of your lips upon mine, of our hearts beating as one!" A grin crossed his face as an idea came to his mind, "I come bearing gifts!" He pulled the deer from his shoulders and offered it to her. The Bosmer's name was Thronir, a relatively young elf at 90 years of age, Thronir had been watching out for the group and teaching Selene how to shoot a bow for the last six years.

"Ugh!" Selene wrinkled her nose at the deer and pushed it away. "Thronir, how long do I have to put up with you?" She looked helplessly at Rorgul as he too was fighting a smile behind curved teeth. "Not you too Rorgul..."

9 Second Seed, Midnight

Selene was laying on her fur pallet, trying to sleep, when she heard hushed voices outside the building. She slowly got up and crept along the stone wall, until she was at the edge of the entrance, and she listened:

"I'm not taking care of no damned elf."

That sounds like Gjek. Selene thought. Gjek was a quiet Nord who had been with the group ever since Selene could remember. He never talked much to her, but he always was watching her from under thick eyebrows when she was around.

"You will take care of her, if you value your life."

What's going on? Selene had never heard Rorgul argue with anyone in her life, and this was the most Gjek had ever spoken.

"Listen you pig-faced Orc," Gjek sounded angry, "you may have spared my life that night, but I've been dead ever since. You killed my sister Silvi, and her husband Rogir, and now I'm having to take care of some elven whore. Yeah, I'm not afraid of you, now. That arrow-wound, not so bad as I make out, and you're old, you can't fight anymore."

Selene peeked around the edge of the door frame, just enough the see the two arguing in hushed tones. Were she not Lunari, she would have been unable to pick up the quiet discussion. It looked like Gjek and Rorgul were about to fight, each had a weapon in hand, the Nord a short sword, and the Orc an axe.

"You'll do no such thing, Thronir would kill you if you hurt her." Rorgul's voice had taken on an unusual quality, as if he knew this was a fight he couldn't win.

"Thronir?" The Nord laughed, a grim laugh filled with determination, "Thronir doesn't care about the witch, he only cares for his pay." Seeing Rorgul's expression, he continued, "You think I didn't know you paid him to watch out for her? I know you sold that Imperial Armor last year just to scrounge up enough gold for his salary. I'm not stupid, and," he nodded at the axe, "you can't swing that to save your life. You're too old for an Orc. You didn't die in battle, or kill yourself before it set in. So, fight me."

Selene watched in horror as events worse than her darkest dreams unfolded. Gjek, who had the Nord that got the arrow to the chest all those years ago, fought Rorgul like mad. Rorgul's axe couldn't parry in time, and a blow caught him deep in his right thigh. The Orc cried out in pain, and dropped to his knees. He was supporting himself with the axe, and struggling to stand, but Gjek cut his other leg before he was able. Suddenly, Selene found her voice: "Rorgul, NO!"

Rorgul looked up with a certain finality in his eyes, then horror as he realized Selene was in danger. "Selene, RUN!", he shouted just as Gjek lopped through his neck.

Gjek spun around, searching for the young elf. "Where are you, scum? You can't hide forever."

Selene had run back into the small building where they had been living to find her bow and quiver. She found them, despite tears flooding her eyes, and quickly notched an arrow. She pointed it at the door-frame and waited. Gjek walked in, eyes scanning the room, and then he locked on to Selene. She let the arrow fly, but instead of hitting him in the heart, as she had planned, her unsteady hands had caused the arrow instead to pierce him through the leg. Without missing a beat, she dropped the bow and picked up a small dagger she had been given by Rorgul when she was ten years old. She ran to the Nord, who was staggering as he tried to pull out the arrow, and she slashed the blade across his stomach. As Gjek bled, Selene grabbed her things: the bow and arrows, the furs, and the small dagger.

I'm not waiting for Thronir, I don't know where he is, Selene thought, and after tonight, I can't trust him. Tears still streaming from her eyes, she ran out into the night.