Blackness. Darkness. Pain. Disorientation. Those are the things that greet me as I awoke in a dark room.

It hurt pretty much fucking everywhere as well as places I didn't know even existed. It was bad enough that I could only perhaps tilt my head from side to side, even then it required exertion.

Not like there is much to see anyway, considering that it is pitch black.

I began to panic. I couldn't move and I can't see anything.

Am I in Hell? I knew that I will go there, but I imagined that it would more be like lots of fire and physical torture, not being deprived of your senses.

The logical part of me calmly shot that notion down that Hell probably wouldn't cater to just one form of torture. The rest of me didn't care.

As my panic grew, so did my desperation.

I ignored the protests that my body sent me as I tried to move. It didn't budge.

I tried again and I think it moved this time.

All through this I was blinded by the sheer pain.

I refused to let this be my fate. I ignored the pain, the bright white flashes that went through my head every time I moved.

I refused to stay like this. I have managed to move my arms a few feet. Not that great of a distance, but considerable compared to what I could do before.

I am not useless. I have managed to use my free arm to move reposition my body to its side.

I am... As I rolled over I fell off a ledge and hit the ground beneath it with a loud thump and creak.

I am still in fucking pain. I may have laid there for a few minutes, but it felt far longer than that.

Dazed, I was briefly aware of distant thumping. As I recovered from my last folly, I realized that it is coming closer.

My attempts at clawing at the ground to gain traction was futile. And yet the sounds came closer.

I tried -

Door opened with a creak of ancient wood, and came in a large man holding a lantern with his left. His eyes on the bed I was on before finding me on the floor. He ran towards me.

"Woah there friend. Easy now. No point in us healing you if you are going to injure yourself again."

Putting the lantern on the floor, he easily lifted me from the floor and set me on the bed.

I managed to finally cough out a question "Where..." am I? I coughed again.

"Easy there." He said as he raised his palms. He reached for a pail and ladle next to the bed and brought it to my lips. "Here have some drink and ask me again."

I drank. It was water. Not the freshest I have tasted, but I didn't care. I drank deeply and greedily as my caretaker continued to refill the ladle.

By the time the pail was empty, I had already drank my fill. The throat no longer dry I asked him my question once more.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

He looks at me. "My name is Kottarald, friend. You are in my house and in Helgen."