Imprints Of The Past.
1: Bloody Beginnings
Around 144.54E turndas, Saru'Thaen was born into the summerset isle, where he lived with his parents, High Elf ministers for the Thalmor. He refused to have anything to do with the cult as he considered it, he just sat and worked on his illusionary skills. Some alteration. Most destruction, by the time he reached age 17, he was a master in illusion and destruction. In the great war, his parents were killed. Good riddance. He said. As they treated him like a slave, a piece of trash. Never a scrap of love.
After their deaths he lived alone on the isle till he was 21. whence he set out for Skyrim, where he knew work was plenty, and he wanted meat, no more rabbit food, as he put it. So he set off, through Cyrodill, the Imperial city teaming with life, constricted life, the Thalmor ruled everything. Emperor Titus Meade was a pawn in their game. And he knew it. He decided to cross into the region of the Nords, through Bruma. In Bruma his horse died from exposure, so at the border he stole a horse. Much to his demise he was captured! Bound and put in a wagon full of Nord's. They knocked him out. Damn Imperials. He thought as he came to, the bouncing of the wagon rattled his senses.
"HEY you, horse thief, your finally awake, you were trying to cross the border right? -" the rest of the speech was lost as his hearing went in and out, vision too fuzzy to see much, hearing to garbled. They stopped at a town, he heared called Helgen. "here we are. End of the line." one Nord said as they were all forced to jump off the wagon. One by one, they were called to the chopping block. "my ancestors are smiling at me Imperials! Can you say the same!?" one asked as the ax dropped his head to the ground.