Preface: I make no claim to this story. I am simply playing in Bethesda's sandbox. Any infringement, insult, or insanity that occurs from reading this story is entirely unintentional.
I will take some liberties of course, as the character is my own.
First time writing a fanfic, ever. In fact, my first time writing anything outside of a classroom. I might screw up. Be brutal in criticism. Don't hold any punches.
Chapter 1: Arrival of a stranger
Saleg reviewed the situation. It seemed as if his luck had been all negative ever since he was born. He had grown to live with this fact over the years.
"Saleg. My name is Saleg."
"Well Saleg, you got a last name?"
"Don't remember."
"You don't remember? Where did you come from?"
"Prison."
"Prison?"
"That's what I said, dumbass."
"Whoa now. No need to get snippy."
On the day he was born, his mother gave him up, not to a healer, priest, or any living soul, but to the streets.
"You demanded everything I had to my name, save the clothes on my back. Excuse me for not being happy about that."
"And if'n you know whas' good for you, you'll give it all up!" the larger, and obviously, dumber of the two thugs said.
He fought through though. Gotten off the streets. But he got himself into the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Ok. It's given." Not a single septim had changed hands.
"Yeah!" the larger man exclaimed. "We wins again!"
"Shut up," his partner demanded. "He hasn't given us anything."
"Oh. Well why nots?"
"'Cause the n'wah wants to die."
"No," Saleg responded. "'Cause the n'wah has nothing."
Got himself thrown in prison for a murder he did not commit.
"You're an outlander. You gots to have something," the less dimwitted of the partners said to him.
"I was in prison, moron. Remember? Are you always this slow? Why don't you let the brains of your operation speak?" It was a bluff. He really didn't want the partner to say a word. But it was a grave insult, and that's what the conversation had turned into.
"I's gonna let you go, s'wit. But for that last comment, you will pay," he said, pulling out a dagger.
Of course, he had to become a murderer in prison. Either that or become a victim. Kill or be killed.
As the man with the dagger charged, Saleg ducked, and dagger-man went over the bar. Meanwhile his slower-in-thought partner displayed an amazing speed in combat. Saleg was faster though, and sidestepped the axe coming down on his head. It crashed into the bar… but only after cutting off the hand of his partner, who was trying to get up. He screamed, and the barkeep had had enough. He threw the whole lot of them out, first the dimwit, then his partner, then Saleg, then the dismembered hand. The fight would have carried out in the street, except that the two partners started a new fight: between each other. Saleg ran down the street with sounds of the dagger-man screaming "You cut off my hand! You bastard!" echoing in the background.
Then he'd been suddenly released in this dinky port city of Seyda Neen. No explanation. Just orders. Unexplained orders to go to Balmora and deliver a package.
As he tossed the package in his hands and took to the idea of sleeping in the streets again, he wondered at why his luck had turned so bad. What he had done to the gods or fate or whatever controlled his unfortunate destiny? And what would said force throw at him next?