(DISCLAIMER: Oblivion is not my creation. I am only responsible for the storyline of this story and any characters I created myself for it.)

Prologue:

The sun shone brightly this morning, coming through the magnificent colored windows, making streams of red, purple, yellow, and blue illuminate the vastly decorated room. The room was fairly spacious; with many various wooden staffs leaned up against the walls as if they were brooms. Two display cases, lined on the inside with red linen, stood at either side of a table, where a shepherd's pie sat on a silver plate, accompanied by a silver pitcher of water, and a silver glass

At the end of the room, was a bed, with red sheets, embroidered with golden designs. Next to it stood another staff, apart from the rest. A figure is in the bed, covered by the sheets. Me.

I awoke as a bright ray of yellow light shone upon my face. I slowly sat up on my bed, letting the sheets fall to my waist. Groggily, I got up off of my bed, and went over to my dresser. I chose a red silk robe, and put it on. I go over to my mirror, beside my bed, to look at myself.

I was a young Altmer. A seventeen-year-old boy, in fact. My name was Eyrie. Not very traditional, I know, but unique enough. My skin was a pale-golden hue, but not too pale. My almond-shaped eyes were dark blue, and I had dark brown hair, which I wore in a natural manner, allowing it to touch the base of my neck. The tips of my ears stuck out of my hair on either side of my head. I was tall. Us Altmer have a reputation for that. I smile, and nod to my reflection. I was the best-looking Altmer I have ever seen.

I grab the wooden staff beside the bed. It was my Mage's Staff, enchanted to throw fireballs. I put it on my back, and moved to the table in front of the windows, between the display cases. I glance at the one in front of where I sit now. Inside of it was a Goblin Totem staff I had stolen from a goblin tribe a year or so ago. Besides the house, Rosethorn hall, that was left to me in a will from my father, who had died recently, it was my most valuable and treasured possession.

I may live in a great mansion, but the truth is, I only have around 3000 Septims. While compared to some, that would be a fortune, I dare hope to have more than 5 times that, one day. My only income is from the tasks I do for the Mage's Guild, from selling various potions and poisons, and the occasional adventure and tasks I do for various people. The staffs littered around my home are a result of these quests and adventuring. I could never bring myself to sell a staff I did not have. So, I leave them around my house. Leaned against walls, across desks, and on shelves. It's a vanity thing, I suppose.

I pour myself a glass of water, and begin eating the Shepherd's Pie. It was my favorite food during my childhood, and it still is today. Once I finish, I wipe off my face with a napkin, and stand up.

I had considered many times fighting in the arena to gain some extra Septims, but some high-up people in the guild look down upon it. Maybe someday, when I become a Wizard I will. But as of now, it would be too risky to have the disapproval of the higher-ranking members of the guild hindering my advancement.

I walk down stairs. In the main hall, it was quiet. Elyja, the servant who my father had hired, must either still be asleep or out. I didn't mind.

I had just stepped out of the house and shut the door behind me when I had heard someone yell "The Gods are angry!"

(That is it for the prologue. Please R&R if you enjoyed, and have a good day. :D)