I own nothing except my own character, everything else belongs to Bethseda softworks (except the Ashen mod).
This is an introduction to my Dragonborn Ylva. The Ashen race is by Seren4XX is found on the Nexus as a mod.
I was only 15 when I started wandering around Skyrim. It was a dark time for me; I had only the armour I carried on my back, and a looted hunting bow to keep me safe. But what I also carried was knowledge: knowledge of who I was, my mother's knowledge of alchemy, and my father's knowledge of the wilds. I am an Ashen, a race of wanderers who left Akavir to avoid slavery; we never wanted trouble, you wouldn't even recognise us as being different from other humans if you saw us.
It was 4E190 when my life changed; I lived with my parents in an isolated farmstead in the forests of Falkreath. My father would hunt to provide us with food, the skins we would sell to buy what we needed. My mother was a keen alchemist: she would wander the forest for plants to make potions and poisons. The poisons she would give to my father, to "give him an edge" she used to smirk; we would keep some healing potions for emergencies, and sell any other potions to Zaria at Falkreath.
It all started on an ordinary day: my mother and father had skins and potions that needed to be sold, but they couldn't go into Falkreath that day – father was ill from a bite he took while hunting the day before, and mother had to stay to look after him; however we still needed some more money, so I chose to walk to Falkreath with the skins and potions to sell. I walked down the path onto the road with only my dagger and fur armour for protection. When I got to Falkreath, I bartered at Grey Pine Goods: skins for a potion to cure disease, I thought it might be useful to give to father. I then visited Grave Concoctions to sell the potions mother gave me to sell, Zaria always seemed nice to me despite her strange attachment to the cemetery.
I left Falkreath at around three in the afternoon after some food in the tavern in high spirits: I had made a profit with the potions and skins, and the potion I brought might be of some help to father. But as I got closer to home, a feeling of unease crept up on me; I smelt smoke and the unique smell of death on the wind...
I didn't hesitate. I ran back home as fast as I could, but I wasn't fast enough.
When I burst into the clearing I saw that my home was burning; the thatched roof was ablaze, the wooden walls crumbling into ash, mother's alchemy garden trampled and destroyed. Bandits had destroyed my home on a whim...
As I walked quietly around the clearing, I noticed that there were still a couple of bandits around the ruins of home, hunting for any valuables they might have missed; they were talking amongst themselves about how they were going to spend the gold they found. My fists tightened in anger, my face curled into a snarl and my hand went towards my dagger. I had to strike: I crept up behind one of them and backstabbed him – it didn't kill him and it alerted his friend to my presence, but I didn't care; I was running on adrenaline, I barely noticed the arrows being shot at me by the distant bandit, I just wanted to kill these intruders who had destroyed my home. The bandit who I backstabbed when down fairly quickly, his body fell to the ground and started to bleed out. I looted a dagger from the bandit's corpse, and ran towards the other bandit still firing at me. I pounced on him before he took out his sword, knocking him to the ground and I stabbed him repeatedly in the chest until he stopped moving. It was only then that I stood up slowly; I was shaking, my armour and pale skin was smeared with blood, and I had several wounds from the arrows fired at me. I slowly removed the arrows from my body and healed myself as much as I could – restoration was never my strong point. I then collapsed on the ground with exhaustion, and just sobbed until I fell asleep.
When I woke up at sunrise, I noticed that it had rained during the night and the fire had blown itself out; I investigated the ruins of my home. There was almost nothing left: my parent's locked chest containing spare potions and arrows managed to survive the blaze although it was slightly charred, and my wooden doll from when I was young. I also managed to find my parent's corpses on the floor; they were badly burned and barely recognisable, they must have tried getting out but could never reach the door. I removed the bodies and buried them in the woods under a tree, and planted some seeds around the ruin and their grave as a memorial; when spring came, there would be lots of mountain flowers and nightshade around as a marker. After some hesitation, I decided to place my old doll on the stone hearth in what was left of the house - I didn't need it anymore. I sat down on the grass staring at the ruins of my home, I think I daydreamed because it was all a bit of blur after that, all I was feeling was sadness and hopelessness: everything I had was now gone, I was homeless and alone.
It was approaching sunset when I realised that the bodies of the bandits I killed were still lying around. I wondered if they had anything that would tell me where they came from; as I looted their pockets I came across a barely discernible scrawled note. All I recognised on it was the word 'Knifepoint'; I didn't know what it meant, but it had to mean something. I resolved to ask about 'Knifepoint' at Falkreath, perhaps the guards would know something. I took the note, the bandit's bow, the potions and arrows I found in the chest and left to walk down the path to the road, leaving the bandit's bodies to either rot or be eaten by wolves. I turned back for one last glance towards my home, and as I continued down the path I had only one thing on my mind: Vengeance.
I'll start writing another chapter when my exams are finished. Please review and any advice would be appreciated.