This is just a short intro. Hopefully this will be a new twist on things. I don't intend on making this EXACTLY like the game. This is going to be kind of a world of its own, and there will be a second story that takes place in Skyrim if people seem to like this.
Sorry for any spelling errors on this one. I read it a few times but I write it on my phone and autocorrect is stupid.
I don't own the Elder Scrolls games, just my original characters and such.
It wasn't the life I expected to have at twenty-six years of age, that's for sure. I can remember going to the Chapel of Akatosh as a boy, and having the old priests and priestesses gush over me. "Such manners!" They would say. "What an agreeable child you have, Clarissa. And oh, he is the spitting image of Marius! He will do great things..." Even after moving to the Imperial City with my mother, the people there would say the same things. Their words became entirely laughable, since I proved to be anything but great.
I sat by a once roaring fire, puffing on an old pipe packed with cheap tobacco. It was nothing special, but the best I could afford after a year in prison, and quite the luxury after the week I'd had. I'd only just gotten the smell of sewer off of my skin, and I'd been mugged by highwaymen twice! The emperor said that I was sent by the Divines to set things right. What the Divines wanted with a known criminal was beyond me, but it would have been nice for them to have struck down the damn thieves who took my money.
Well, perhaps it was a lesson. I'm hardly the person to criticize a thief. I'm hardly the person to criticize anyone. If my youth had taught me anything it was that there is usually more to a criminal than meets the eye. Perhaps they had families to take care of, or debts to repay. I could have easily fended them off, but for what? I had put it in my mind to redeem myself, and to do that I would have to make life about more than coin.
I'd turned twenty-six only a week prior to my escape from prison- it had passed me by unnoticed and without a single visitor. Since the age of nineteen I'd served a total of three years in prison for various crimes, particularly thievery and issues with skooma. It's safe to say that both sides of my family- the high and mighty Imperial Aetius and Avitus families- were more than willing to abandon the thought of an unruly cousin, grandson and nephew.
The night sky was a comfort to me. In all my years in prison, it was the only thing I could see through my tiny barred window. I could have easily made it to Kvatch that night, but I needed the comfort of the stars. I could hardly bring myself to approach my home city, where the majority of Aetius family would be waiting for me. No doubt my uncle Felix in the Imperial City would have sent word of my release. I could practically see the letter he would send. 'Do not give him money.' He would warn. 'I have already given him more than he deserves. He abandoned our families the moment he stepped into that arena- the very second Clarissa died. He chose his path, let him live with his mistakes.'
Ah, truly it was an exaggeration. Felix Avitus was probably the kindest of my relatives. I would always remember the walk to his house, covered in sewer filth and wearing nothing but my prison rags. The looks that people gave me... And he simply handed me a wash bin, gave me the key to my old chest and tossed a light coin purse into my filthy hands.
"Do not say that I have never helped you." He had said, with eyes near overflowing with disappointment- resentment. "For I have given you more than you deserve, out of love for my sister."
The look in his eyes had moved me to tears. I had done so much wrong. There were no words to express the heavy sadness and regret that plagued my heart, and I had so many questions that could not be answered.
Why me? The Divines chose me? How could the Imperial Emperor walk into my prison cell in his darkest hour, only to look upon me- a filthy criminal- with the most sincere kindness? He believed in me. He trusted me.
It was that undeserved hope that helped me to carry on- to find his illegitimate son and help him in any way that I could. Even if that meant facing my estranged family, and all of those people who once believed me to be so great. I was given a second chance by the great Uriel Septim himself.
So, it was with the memory of a king's final wish that I broke camp and made my way towards Kvatch. The White Gold Tower was just visible over the hills behind me, shining brightly in the starlight. I tightened the belt around my waist for the umpteenth time, having lost a bit of muscle mass in prison. My old leather armor was big on me, and I began to wonder if anyone would even recognize me. My hair was longer, my beard was thicker, I was thinner, and I wasn't on skooma. Yet. My nerves made me crave my old addiction, but I was fighting it. After all, if I ever got my hands on skooma I might end up mistaking a chicken or goat for the heir to the throne. The Nine might just rethink their strategy.