This is a story about a Redguard Dovahkiin who gets wrongly accused of Murdering the High King of Skyrim. Setting Takes place after the main campaign of Skyrim.
Cold wafts of wind swept through and out the prison's confines while the guards patrolled the grounds with steadiness and with stoic impressions upon their faces. The two storied prisons had occupation filled to capacity of the unenthusiastic grounds that had iron bars lining holding the prisoners and wooden beams holding up the second story of inmates, within each cell held a small and very uncomfortable straw bed with a rotting wooden dressers and rugs that served as carpets. Though at the cell facing the entrance to the despicable place of convicts, stood one cell unlike others: A huge steel door about average nord height and width with only a slit that was slidable to open or close that allowed the guards to peer through to the otherside of the cell. Inside said cell held several hanging shackles and chains that would bind a person in a way that they wouldn't be standing but hanging straight in the air by the imprisonment. The unfortunate soul who remained and had remained here for twenty summers was a once muscular built redguard who through time had turned skinny and weak, blonde has that was dreaded past his shoulders that usually tied into a ponytail now was ragged and malnutritioned beyond anything else, oceanic like eyes that were full of life and emotion now hung lighter than ever with emotionless like stares. Prominent, protruding, and full lips that were casual and normal in redguards were now cracked and drawn back a bit with a very dry look to them. This man was now in his 45th summer and would spend the rest of entirety confined to this cell, devoid of all life, and with a willingness to end his own life that slight and miniscule chance he could get. "Orion," said the guard that approached his cell, looking through the small slit. He wore the proud colours of purple clothes and chainmailed guardsman's armour with his shield adorning the small pattern excpt with the symbol of two swords crossing each other. "Here's today lunch," as he handed through the small slit a loaf of bread soaked in juice form venison. He hand fed the Orion as he ate it with no expression nor a hint of life whilst he chewed on the stale and chewy bread. After being done with eating the Riften guard then closed the small slit and Orion was left to his own devices once again which was usual for him: he hand no family that dared to even care for him to visit, all his friends had forgotten about him and his status as Dovahkiin, and now instead of people speaking about the legendary hero and praising him for his feats; people feared his name and spat and cursed it with utter disgust and guttural speech. A Dragonborn was no longer needed in the world after the defeat of Alduin summers ago and his triumphing victory for the companions and his restoration of the Riften Thieves Guild who was now feared but respected throughout all of Skyrim. It's like the world of Tamriel has shunned him because of what he did 20 summers ago which was the murder of the great High King of Skyrim: High King Torygg II. He was found with bloodied dagger in hand, body once resting peacefully and soundly now laid lifeless and cold onto the King's bed, enchanting windowed the viewed the outside of the castle walls now was shattered and broken in through. He was convicted the crime of High Treason against Skyrim, Murder, and Conspiracy with the enemy. They gave him no trial nor a chance to defend himself against the Jarls of Skyrim and as he was arrested and would be on a carriage to Riften's solitary cell, he looked as Brynjolf: his trusted friend, Farkas: his beloved shield brother, his family, and a childhood friend Named Karliana, now all looked at him with disappointment and disgust, muttering under their breath but Orion didn't need to actually hear to know what they were talking about under their breath: They all hated him with extremity now. They hated him for a crimes, he had never ever committed and was framed for this. This was 20 summers ago and knew that he had nothing to live for even if from some miracle we has released for "good" behavior even though he was confined to the shackles ever since he got here. So day by day, night by night passed by with no hesitation and he would sooner or later lose track of time and how long he was in here. He only knew the time it's been because of hearing the other prisoners being released because the Guards usually said the crime and how much they served.
He didn't bother having a certain time recollection because he knew that usually such High Treason would involve a death sentence but was only saved but his title as Dovahkiin, so they decided that it be best to just have him chained up forever until he deteriorates away or dies of old age. It was some hours after he got his food he saw a sight he would never in his entire life ever again: He saw Jarl Elisif.
A/N: This is my first ever fanfiction for skyrim! I hope you'll stick with me for this journey! \^-^/