The day was bright and clear as Jax stepped out from his small hut by the icy sea coast. The dunmer could see the golden edge of the sun as it made its ascent into the sky. The grayish-green sea foamed and swirled violently. Jax stretched and yawned, then proceeded to check nearby shrubs and plants for any unwanted creatures. Mud crabs were well known for sneaking into hiding places during the night, then attacking unsuspecting victims as they passed. It was rare that one would kill you, but the three inch long pincer could leave quite a scar.
Jax's black hair ruffled in the wind as the strong gusts swept across the barren lands of the west coast of Vvardenfell. The dunmer grabbed his old iron cutlass from inside and started his search of the property. He stabbed the sword into each of the bushes within the small, rock wall that he had built around his hut. Nothing moved or made a noise as he finished checking all the places something could hide. This was a necessary step in surviving in the wilderness in the untamed west.
Now freezing from the cold, Jax went back inside and added more logs to the fire he always kept burning. Sparks flew up the rough, primitive chimney as he tossed the new logs and soon they caught the orange flame. He grabbed his rabbit fur coat and shivered away the bitter cold. He didn't have many possessions, but most of the cozy hut was filled. He had his cot, a small table, several barrels and crates in one corner where he kept his food, his clothes, and weapons.
Jax had lived on his own here for five years. He had left his home city of Vivec when his parents were murdered by an assassin. He was fifteen at the time, and was left alone to fend for himself on the streets. When he was warned by a friend that his life was also in danger, he fled by boat to the west. He landed in a small settlement on the south coast, then made his long journey to the far west coast where he was settled now. He knew one day he would leave here and take revenge on the people who had killed his parents. First though, he had to become a strong warrior.
He stood up, grabbed his throwing knives and his cutlass, then left the hut. It was hunting time. The air was still cold, but the wind had died down to a slight breeze, making the temperature much more bearable. Jax had explored every inch of the surrounding terrain for miles, and knew where the resident creatures lived. Mud crabs were the least of his problems; recently, a pack of wolves had moved into the area and were scaring away all the deer that he depended on for food. Jax always loved a challenge.
He ran swiftly into the forest, but his light Elvin form made only the slightest sounds as he weaved quickly in and out of the large pine trees. Jax knew wolves alone were dangerous and a whole pack was worse, but if he didn't get rid of them, he wouldn't have anything to eat soon. His breath created puffs of white as he made his way to where he had last sighted the pack.
He slowed to a walk as he neared the area. He froze as he heard a branch crack behind him, then a low growl emanated from an unseen mouth. He slowly looked over his shoulder to see a large, jet black wolf baring its yellow teeth at him, crouched in an attack position. He slid his hand down to one of his throwing knives on his belt. Suddenly, the wolf sprung straight at him, mouth filled with dagger-like teeth. Jax jumped into the air, kicking off a tree, and swinging around to face the attacker. The wolf howled, angry that it had missed. Then, to Jax's horror, he heard several other howls in response. He was in for the fight of his life.