A Moonlight Production
Presents
...
Welcome To Skyrim
Snow dusted down covering Bruma with a thin layer of fine , dusty snow . The morning sky was clouded over and a chill northern breeze brought the taste of a long , cold winter.
The towns residents , aware of the weather , kept themselves in their log houses or in the local taverns . Beside fires they sat , keeping warm , sipping at their ale .
Outsides , the guards stood by the city gates , guarding like stone sentinels , their faces as stony as the ground they stood on . At each gate they stood , north and east.
The silence seemed to fall on and blanket them just as the snow blanketed the ground . The silence was broken for a moment , the clouds giving off their faint grey light .
The door of a small , rundown tavern was opened , heat blowing out along with the smell of hot foods and stale ale . Footsteps crunched over the snow covered streets of Bruma . A lone man , clad in chain and animal skins , walked through the town .
An iron blade was slung across his back and a large hunting knife was strapped to his waist . Large he was , too , for he was a nord . As dawn crept past , he approached the northern gate of the city . The guards moved to the gates , opening them , the oiled hinges making not a sound .
The nord left the cold city and its residents behind heading towards the Jerall Mountains . Half the day he climbed , finally reaching the peak of a mountain , the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim .
His eyes scanned the horizon , his large , bulky chest lifting as he took in a deep breath of fresh , cold air . A puff of white rose up from his mouth as he exhaled .
A smile slid across his rough features as this one though ran through his head :
"Finally , I have made it ... Skyrim."
Long he stood there , gazing over the land . His heart jumped though as he heard footsteps approaching from behind him .
"Yu'r not supposed to be here nord," a voice said , thick with the northern accent. "We have our own troubles here in our own land and we do not need you causing more."
Silently the Nord turned around and saw ...
...five fully armed nords , steel armor covering their bodies , bearing various iron weapons . He growled but it was cut off short for he felt a heavy weight hit his head and his world spun into blackness .
11.11.11
Hours later , the Nord awoke to find himself lying beside the smoldering coals of a fire . His head throbbed as he cracked his eyes open and looked up at the night sky . Masser and Secunda could not be seen for clouds covered the expanse of the sky .
His stomach groaned and he felt a horrible thirst . It didn't last long though for many moments later , he fell into a troubled sleep .
11.11.11
Morning once again brought the Nord to wakefullness though this time , it was to the sound of wagon wheels rolling along rocky frozen ground . He looked down to notice that he was clothed in only rags , his hands bound by a tough leather rope .
He strained against the bindings but to no avail . Then a rough voice spoke :
"Don't try anything , prisoner. You're well guarded."
The Nord growled before rolling over , pushing himself up as he noted a bench at the side of the wagon . He pulled himself up onto the bench , sitting beside another man. Moments passed before the man whispered :
"They're taking us to be executed , you know ." The Nord looked at the quiet man before looking away , turning attention the the cold countryside of the land of Skyrim .
As the wagon trundled on and got closer to it's destination , the life of the Nord waned . Just a man , trying to get back to his homeland . Or was that it ? Was their more to his story than that ?
His gaze was turned to watching the land slowly pass by , a fire blazing in his eyes , of anger , of fear , and of sadness . Then , once again , the silence was broken as the wagon driver spoke these words :
"Welcome home , Nord . Welcome to Skyrim."
