I do not own the rights to Oblivion or any of the games in the elder scrolls series…. However I will use their content shamelessly.
This story, in honor of the announcement of The elder scrolls V, is set in the Nord homeland of Skyrim. All of the characters in this story, are of my creation. Now without further adieu, let the story begin.
Chapter One
The white is almost blinding, an undisturbed blanket of nothing. Void of color, the world lay still, lifeless. Dead. Not a single flake of snow has fallen since we stepped foot in this land. The only movement anywhere around seemed to be our footsteps. Slow, synchronized, monotonous steps.
It feels like a funeral march.
No one speaks. We must save our energy. Every breath, a precious one. And it seems, every step is a wasted one.
I am numb. Its not only because of the cold. The air grows heavy. As does each step. I grow weary. Of the walking. Of this journey. Of life itself.
The sun begins to sink, and a lone grey hand extends above the crowd. We all stop and kneel to listen to the man, as he leads the group. The dark elf clears his throat then begins to speak.
"We stop here for the night," his deep voice echoed through the quiet terrain, "set up camp, squad six, you are on watch. Ladies and Gents, Relax. We are half way to High Hrothgar, we can get there and start anew! Live our live the way we should have been able to in Vvardenfell, can I get a HURAH?"
The entire dark elf company, 200 hundred men and women, bellow the cheer.
"HURAH!"
The cheer was like a siren, an alarm, waking ever creature in the area. Branches snapped, and bushed rustled, as animals replied to the cheer with their frightened yips. They then tried to find a new place to burrow.
Saren, the ex-military general, smirked as the tents begin going up. He gave hope to the elves around him. It was like the world was brought to life, just by his voice. The only downside, is that with life, comes the stirring of death.
Somewhere in the distance, a frozen lake begins to crack. A pale hand extends from the dull set waters, grasping for a handhold. Then a body begins to pull themselves up. With the creatures first step on land, the world is quiet once more. With this quiet, I close my silver eyes and drift to sleep.
I awake in a cold sweat. Another nightmare. I wipe the sweat from my brow and grab my sack cloth shirt. As I threw it on I reached for my bow and stepped out of my tent. The flame crackles, illuminating the area around me. Newfound color, upon the white blanket. Crimson. My eyes widen.
"Blood?" I murmur.
I look about, and see no signs of disturbance, not bodies. Just blood. Everywhere. No footprints either. I turn quickly to sprint to look inside another tent. Before I can even take a step, I am met by piercing red eyes. A very pale man stood before me, smirking. He extended his hand, as he began to greet me.
"Good evening Adrian, I have been awaiting your arrival." he smiled, baring his teeth. His canines came to a point.
I knock his hand away and reach for his throat, but he was too fast, in the blink of an eye he twisted my wrist, breaking it and flipped me over his shoulder, onto the ground. Then, out of what seemed to be the air, he pulled a dagger and placed it on my throat.
"How do you know my name?" I managed to spit out.
"Oh, you'll find we know a great deal of things, far more then you'd wish to learn. Now come, we have much planned for you." he lifted me up and turned on his heel, walking southeast.
"Why the hell would I follow you?" I said, cradling my newly broken wrist.
The man smirked as he looked over his shoulder, "We are your only chance at survival, and, we know why your skin is tan and eyes are silver, unlike you dunmer 'brethren'. Besides, Id hate to spill blood as special as yours."
I obeyed, and followed. I have a gut feeling much more death is to come. I fear, that it my be on my hands.
A single snowflake passes my face, the moons sit high in the sky.
"This will be one long night." I muttered.