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Shade

"Dying"

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He raced along the harsh and wintery terrain at the eve of upcoming dawn.

He slipped through trees, swam through a river, and galloped over the snowy plains as easily as any horse could. A young Redguard; dark-skinned and as handsome as any had ever seen. His black hair was of a typical style, braided and curled over his head, and he wore armor of a fine make as well.

Even as he ran as such, his pace failed to slacken as he tore through the forest with near superhuman speed and with stamina that seemed to never run dry. He didn't pause to think much, his reflexes and strength needing only mere moments to address the miscellaneous creatures who confronted him.

As he exited the forest and came to a stop near a rocky outcropping, his vision when red and he felt large teeth biting into the muscles of his forearm. He turned around and saw a large black wolf attached firmly and several others skating around the edges of his vision.

With one movement, he drew his blade and cleaved cleanly through the hide of the wolf while his gaze still hung on the small pack that had cornered him and were now circling around. He tried to raise his sword-arm to prepare for the attack, but then felt a strong stinging on his arms. It wasn't the blood or his sweat and felt like his entire arm had been locked up tight.

He silently cursed, "Perfect timing, Rockjoint."

At that moment, the band of wolves converged on him with their jaws snapping at the sight of seeing their weakened prey. The Redguard sidestepped and kicked away to get rid of the first one. His sword sung through the air as the blade of gray cut cleanly through the wolf that approached him next. There was no hesitance or stopping the man as his final victim met the same fate.

The blood flicked from his sword as the 3 wolves laid lifeless on the cold ground and the sun finally showed clearly over the horizon. He bandaged the wound on his arm as best he could, but he still felt a tightness in his arm that now seemed it had moved up to encompass his entire right arm. Sure as the name implied, it felt like his joints had become solidified and rigid, making it hard to move his joints on that arm.

He made a mental note to see a healer once he had successfully entered the province. Skyrim was a cold and frigid land, that much he knew just through reputation. It hardened a man and unleashed his true self through its trials and its hardships, making him strong. That was why he was here and it was all the reason he needed to be here.

He turned back to heading north, the direction which would hopefully lend him safe passage. No sooner had he begun running along the road, he was forced to stop in the middle of the path. In front of him, there were 3 strangers approaching him. The middle one was an orc, dressed in shining silver armor and a few leather bearings around his waist. An iron war axe hung by his side. The Redguard eyed up the other two who seemed to be less composed than the orc. They were wearing leather garments that didn't seem to fit them very well. One was a smaller female Nord that looked like she was uncomfortable and the elf looked even more of a sight to stare at.

"Halt stranger. This is a restricted area. You're interrupting imperial business." the orc stated as the Redguard quickly eyed him up, along with his two companions. He gazed around to see exactly 3 corpses scattered on the ground. All of them were in the nude... their clothes gone.

"You're going to have to pay the toll. 1- 100 septims." he stuttered as he noticed the gaze the traveler was giving them.

It was obvious that these weren't Imperial soldiers and an almost laughable attempt to conceal themselves. Either they were idiots … and they most certainly were given that they killed the men right along the road, or they were going to use it as a scare tactic for some other purpose. Either way, he wasn't going to be paying a toll to them.

"I'm afraid I don't have 100 septims. How about I pay you 50?"

He took out a small coin purse and withdrew 50 septims. The orc's gaze grew icy and the Redguard knew that he wasn't taking the bait. The two lackys drew their swords and steadily advanced around to his sides. "Sorry. I'm afraid the toll is non-negotiable. 100 septims."

The Redguard gave a coy little smile and just put away his coin purse. Talking here wasn't going to get him anywhere. He began to draw his sword from its scabbard … and then let his left hand snake around to grab a small dagger he pocketed on his waist. The two bandits on the side saw the movement and quickly moved to cut him off. Like lightning, the Redguard seemed to flash through the air with his dagger and sword held dually in his hands. His right arm felt like it was locked in a bed of stone, but his left arm dashed and sliced about, as flexible as ever.

He dodged the initial attack and quickly ducked to the ground. Suddenly, his crouching form seemed to shift in the light and vanish. A brief second later, the elf felt his throat slit and fell limply to the ground. The Nord female charged over his companion with her own dagger at the ready. The Redguard met her strike with his sword before stabbing her swiftly in the abdomen with his steel dagger. She fell to the ground, her small frame landing right alongside that of her fellow.

In seconds, the two of them had been dispatched, leaving the orc leader standing alone. The Redguard charged forward, his right arm ready at any moment for the axe to be drawn and for steel to clash against iron.

But there was no such clash.

Instead, the orc let out a loud whistle from his lips that echoed out and about the woods. Immediately, 6 bandits emerged from their hiding spots behind the drops in the landscape and behind several of the trees on the sides. 4 of them charged at him full-speed with their swords held high over their heads in the ready too cleave him in two. Arrows whizzed over his shoulder rapidly, missing him by mere inches. Just as they reached him, the Redguard crouched again, utilizing the trick he had honed through years sneaking in and out of places. His form vanished from sight and a second later a warrior fell from a single dagger strike that cut open his neck.

The 5 remaining bandits gritted their teeth as they charged again and the archers held their positions to fire another volley of arrows. The Redguard held his weapons at the ready, his sword and dagger ready to face the onslaught of men.

The clash of steel was furious. The Redguard man kept pace excellently despite being outnumbered by the bandits and his arm freezing up due to the Rockjoint. He slew two more warriors with ease as the estranged orc merely looked on. The fourth warrior proved no challenge and he too joined the litter that was now drenching the stone on the ground with blood. The archers sheathed their bows, realizing that hitting the man with an arrow wasn't going to win the battle.

The orc himself, deciding that this called for drastic measures, put away his iron axe and withdrew a weapon he had kept holstered in the armor on his back. It was a steel greatsword that glowed brightly with an enchanting light. It wasn't just the broadsword though, the orc reached over and picked up a small shield from one of the fallen warriors. With one hand, he wielded the enormous blade and with the other, he held a steel shield.

The Redguard rushed madly at the orc, his dagger and sword lashing out to cut into the orc's armor. None of the slashes made it through as the orc creatively used both the shield and sword to block the attempt. He moved and stepped, only to have his strength repulsed with casual ease as the shield bashed him away. The Redguard was thrown back and staggered, his body shrugged off by the might of the iron shield.

As soon as he came back to himself, he rose his dagger and sword up to def...

'Clank!' 'Czzt'

He felt 3 arrow heads lodge in his armor in that moment. Most of them struck his torso

The dagger was knocked from his hand by the shield of the orc and the greatsword sliced into through his armor like a knife through a sweetroll. His eyes bulged and his mind went blank as he realized that he'd been defeated and he fell to his knees. The greatsword came again and this time it cleanly pierced him through the midsection. Thoughts of death filled his mind for the briefest of moments... until he felt something else pull on him. Or rather, he felt his soul was being ripped out of him.

And held in the left hand of the orc usurper ... was a black soul gem.

The Redguard... felt his eyes bulge, but he didn't scream. He fell to the ground and was no more. The black soul gem filled with his essence until it brimmed with energy. The orc smiled before picking up his blade and letting the essence of the Redguard recharge the blade's enchantment.

And so the story of the story of the man who would be Dragonborn came to an early end.

It was almost like a dream. Before it became a nightmare.

Haunted everlastingly, his soul wandered through an empty and desolate place that resembled a graveyard. It was fitting for the place that souls went, though the Redguard would disagree quite vehemently. He hated magic such as that which had brought him here. Souls were meant to pass on … not be trapped in a hell such as this for eternity. His ancestors in Hammerfell hated ghosts ... how ironic that he would end up as one and spend the rest of his life in this limbo.

He didn't know where he was, only that he was lost there. He felt nothing, only a void emptiness that seemed like it would never shut. He shuttered to think that he ended up here all because he had been bested by a lowly orc.

"Dammit!" He cried aloud, "I cannot believe this! How was I bested by an imposter and a bunch of cronies!? I've killed dozens more skilled then he was! This is pathetic!"

He pounded his shade-like fist into a nearby archway that led the way to more fog. He stopped moving for a few moments, letting his own misery take hold of him for now.

"I can't let this get to me. I must find a way back. I can't spend forever in this place!"

His mind thought madly. He shook and shook with all his being at the mere thought that he was completely bound to stay like this forever.

"Hello there Young one"

A voice spoke up, causing him to return to his senses and look to the source. A giant crystal floated high in the air above his head, a translucent light emanating from within. The voice was monotone and as empty as the grave.

The Redguard opened his mouth to utter a reply, but before he could do so, a beam of light shot out of the crystal and engulfed his spirit form. It carried him closer until he was pressed up against it. Then the draining began. It was like his strength was being eaten away by this omnipresent creature and that it was going to consume him completely. He almost felt like giving up, but then his words struck him again and his energy came bouncing back.

He fought it. He fought the urge to lay down and let this be the end of him. The crystal kept trying to devour him, but he swiped away at it and continued to battle against the creature.

After a time, the draining stopped and the beam of light receded away. The large crystal let him go and silence reigned between them for a short while.

"What is your name, young soul." the being asked.

"My name is Mikrul. Mikrul Soransen."

Alright, so an embellished story of what happened to me at one point in the game. Just an idea that kind of struck me.

Anywho, I feel my writing skills have dulled a bit and so I wanted something just to get myself something to focus on. For my other stories, I'm not really sure how I want to continue them. I am still here, but cannot be an active writer. I'm going to settle into some one-shots for a time since it will at least keep me working on stuff.

I have ideas undoubtedly, but this is just something my mind cooked up while playing the game. I will leave things open right here.