I woke up to the buzzing of my alarm clock. Swinging my fist down in annoyance, I cracked the glass, which cut my hand. "Grr...mer! Fler- Gah!" I yelled incoherent curses, whipping my bloodied hand around. I shuffled across my bedroom floor to the bathroom, where I patched my wound.
"Breakfast is ready! Hurry up!" My brother hollered.
Tripping over several articles of books, gaming systems, etc., I got dressed and groomed. As I ran down the stairs, my brother's Pit, Moofa, leapt up the steps to meet me. In a frantic movement to escape the slobbering machine in one piece, I jumped over the stair's railing.
Quickly, I sat down in my seat as my food was set down.
"What happened to your hand?" Nolan asked.
"Gi fit hy herlam shock hoo gard." I mumbled through a mouth full of bacon and hash browns.
Tessa slapped the back of my head, causing me to choke a bit on my food. "Don't talk with food in your mouth." She snapped. I nodded and gulped down my food. "I hit my alarm clock too hard... again."
Nolan chuckled and shoved my bag over to me. "You're already two minutes late." He reminded me. "Crap!" I exclaimed, snatching my bag and running out of the door.
"I'm here!" I gasped, bursting through the entrance of the training area.
"You're late." corrected Mr. Core.
I grumbled my apologies and tossed my bag to the wall. Another fighter stood in front of me. "Begin!" Mr. Core announced. I grabbed a wooden staff and followed orders. Everyone else did really fancy twirls with their staffs, where as I just held mine like a sword, no tricks, just planted in one spot. I knew it frustrated them when they couldn't disarm me. Mostly because it frustrated me when the tables were turned.
Mr. Core called a stop and the dueling ceased. "What are you doing? This is a dojo. Not a renaissance fair." He sighed. The people around us laughed. "Yes, sir. My thoughts exactly. That's why I choose to keep my weapon ready to strike, rather than it twirling around where it might be lost." I nodded.
He frowned. "Your practice with the staff is over. Next station." He pointed to the bows.
Dear god, please no. I thought to myself. My aim with a bow is awful, and my technic is even worse. I knocked an arrow and aimed at the target.
Let's just say that it didn't end well and got me kicked off the team, and leave it at that.
"Maybe you just aren't cut out for that disciplined kind of fighting." Tessa said, patting my head.
I frowned and looked at Nolan, who was sorting through the monthly bills. "Well, I need to be cut out for something." I insisted. "No you don't." Grant objected from his chair. "Grant, I'm 25 and I live with my brother and his roommate. I need to help out around here." I pointed out.
"Well you sure as hell aren't going near my kitchen." Nolan looked up. "Ah yes, the incident of '09'. Priceless!" Tessa chuckled in memory. "I didn't mean to set the sink on fire!" I told her.
"Uh, could you tell me exactly how you managed to set the sink on fire?" Grant looked at me, puzzled. I groaned in exasperation and stormed up the stairs.
I always knew that if I got flustered, I could escape to my video games. But, as I was taking Super Smash Bros. Brawl off the shelf, one of Grant's games fell off. The container opened, releasing the disc, which shattered. "Crud!" I hissed through my teeth.
I tried cleaning up the shards of the disc as well as I could, but there were really tiny pieces that had broken off. One of which, somehow got under my bandage and into my cut. Sudden dizziness took over me. The floor looks so comfy. I thought drowsily.
*thud*
A man was talking. The ground was swaying and rocking. There was a bad tasting cloth in my mouth.
I opened my eyes to see a blonde man sitting in a cart. Wait- no. I was in the cart too. He was speaking to a poorly dressed guy who was sitting next to me.
"And what about you, friend?" He looked at me. I reached up and pulled the gag off of my face, noticing my hands were tied. "Uh. I-" I was cut off short as the cart pulled to an abrupt stop.
As everyone in our cart was being loaded off, I got the chance to look at my surroundings. I was in a... town? It was filled with wooden huts and cobblestone towers. "Ulfric Stormcloak." a man called out.
Who?
I scratched the side of my head.
My ears feel really wierd...
"You there- Altmer. What's your name?" the guy asked. I glanced around. Nobody else was near me, so I guess he was talking to me. "Esira." I replied. "We'll make sure your remains are sent back to your home." He said almost apologetically. Another one of the armored soldiers shoved me into the line of... captives?
One of the tied up men stepped up and set his head down on a wooden block. "Is this some sort of cult thing?" I wondered, looking at the stone walls, then back to the wooden block.
Heh heh, for a second there, I thought that it looked like a chopp- *WHACK!*
I stifled a cry of surprise as the man's head was chopped off. A woman, who seemed to have much authority, pointed to me. "Now you." she ordered. I was pushed down onto the chopping block, which was now dripping with blood.
The executioner raised his axe, ready to strike, but as he did, I saw a shadow flicker across the sky behind him. A loud boom echoed around us. "What was that?" someone exclaimed.
"Nothing, continue!" the woman barked.
The shadow grew larger, until it was right above us. The beast landed on the tower in front of me. It bellowed, knocking several people over. "Dragon!" a soldier screamed.
A/n
This is my first story on this account. Yay! I've been meaning to write this for so long, it's just been bugging me.
So, this is sort of based off of my experiences in Skyrim: The Elder Scrolls. Which might I add, were very unlucky experiences.
