Chapter 1 – The Man who Forgot his Name
Deep in the mountains, in a cave which looked like any other, a curious young man awoke. If a bandit or an adventurer passing by had happened upon him, it would have just looked like any other citizen of Skyrim had fallen unconscious. It was far from the truth.
As the man woke up, his face pressed firmly against the stone floor from its own weight, everything was a blur. There were a few torches that lit up his surroundings enabling him to see but he had no idea where he was. While he sat up slowly he realized he had no idea who he was either.
There was no name he could muster, nothing he could recall. As he stood to his feet and his brain kicked into gear, he realized he could walk.
"Okay, so I can do that," the young man said, and then startled himself as he realized he was talking. His voice was a little gravelly but he coughed a couple times and then spoke again, his voice was actually smoother and a little deeper. He looked around nervously and curiously, not sure what to do.
Deducing he was in a cave, he managed to realize he still had common sense. He then freaked himself out that he knew what common sense was but he quickly got over it. Looking at his feet, he seemed to be wearing fur moccasins. On his wrists there were leather guards. A look to his torso revealed he was wearing nothing except for a kilt to cover his upper legs, but on his shoulders there was more fur padding which kept him a little warm.
Not warm where it mattered however, as a cold wind blew in through what must have been the cave's entrance, and his kilt did not adequately protect what mattered. The young man shivered and then looked for a heat source. Seeing a path that led further into the cave, he followed it.
Torches continued to line the walls and he got warmer as he turned left at sudden twist in the tunnel. He walked into what was a large room that must have been excavated and was filled with stone furniture. There were large stone tables and chairs and a large fire place with a rotisserie stick placed in it. He turned to look at a stone throne that overlooked it all, with Nordic runes etched in the sides.
He felt the runes with his fingers, a familiar feeling passing over him. It was like he could read it but at the same time he had no idea what it meant. Vertigo suddenly swept over the man and he had to put a hand to his face.
Sitting down in the throne, the man's world began to return to normal. He once again looked over the room and tried to deduce what was happening. He knew things, that much he could know. But what he knew, he didn't know. That thought process made his head hurt, so he gave it up. All he could do was hope that maybe if he hung around, he could get some answers.
"Aye, who's this then?" yelled a voice from across the room. The man snapped to and he looked up to see a bandit in loincloth standing at the opposite end of the room, having just exited a nearby room.
"Grab some weapons boys!" the bandit yelled back into the room he had come from and the man realized instead of answers he was going to get a bunch of angry bandits.
"Whoa, hey now there guys, no need to bring out the shiny stuff," the young man said as he started to stand up. He looked back to his right, to the tunnel where he had come from. Maybe he could escape. Even if it was into the cold, it would be better than this.
He looked back to the bandit and saw two others emerge, one of them throwing a two handed great sword to their comrade. One had a bow drawn with an arrow nocked and pointed at the man. Running for the exit might be a mistake, he didn't know if he could make it. Talking might be his best move.
"Now gentlemen, I'm sure we can come to a-" the man started to say, but was cut off.
"Let's make him squeal!" one of the bandits cheered excitedly.
Well there went that idea.
The arrow was fired at the man and he found himself diving out of the way in the nick of time. He landed into a roll, and deftly got to his feet. The one with the great sword charged in at him and he braced himself to move. As the bandit swung in something took over inside the man. The man leaned back and dodged the attack. Then pushing forward he shot a palm underneath the bandit's chin stunning him. Turning his back to the bandit he squeezed in close to him and grabbed his forearm.
Jerking the bandit's arm up he forced the bandit to throw the sword upwards. The man reached up and grabbed the sword, spinning it in his hands. Pivoting away from the bandit the man then kept spinning the sword in his hands until he stabilized his grip on it and brought it back into a fighting stance. After a moment of staring down the awe-struck bandits, he paused.
"Ummm…how did I do that?" the man asked himself in confusion. It must have been muscle memory he realized but he had no memory. So how could he have had that?
The bandit he had disarmed wasted no time, and drew a short sword he had sheathed from his waist. Before the young man could think about what to do, his opponent burst into movement. The bandit's sword came swishing in from the side and he parried it and knocked it back. Recoiling, the bandit stepped backwards but found his footing and lunged in again. The man sidestepped it and swung out with the butt end of the sword. He hit the bandit in the temple and knocked him over, then prepared as the other two charged in.
They both had drawn swords and the young man reversed his grip on the sword reflexively. He didn't know what he was doing, but it was working. The two bandits worked as a team, one slashing horizontally, the other vertically, trying to get the young man to fall into one of their swings. However with pin point timing the man swung up and blocked the vertical swing and then brought his sword down into a low arc and parried the horizontal attack. The two bandits stumbled as their momentum was shattered and stepping forward the young man slashed at a bandit.
Blood sprayed from his torso as the bandit fell over. The blood had no shock on the young man, he felt like he was used to seeing it. Then the bandit he had hit in the temple lunged low at the young man. With a quick look the young man could see the bandit's poor balance, and his body took over. As the bandit charged in, the young man front flipped forward with an agility he didn't know he had. He landed from the flip on top of the bandit, one foot firmly planted on top of the bandit's head. He stomped and rode the bandit into the ground hard, and then the man stabbed down hard into the bandit's back. A shrill cry emerged from the bandit's lips as the life pooled out of him.
The young man could hardly believe what he was doing. How was he so capable? Did he have practice? This all ran through the young man's head as he stood on top his victim, when he looked to his side and saw the last bandit had redrawn his bow and was taking aim at him. He wasted no time and fired the arrow, and the young man leaned off to the side and dodged it. He then stepped off the corpse and ran at the bandit, making him panic. The bandit nocked another arrow and fired it, but the man deflected it off to the side with sword. With a last desperate gulp the bandit launched one last arrow as the man was upon him. It was point blank, there was no way it could miss.
But the young man grabbed the arrow mid-air. The bandit gaped, and suddenly the man was upon him and thrust the arrow into the bandit's gut. He stuttered backwards in shock and pain, and looked up at the man in confusion.
"You fight like a monster…who are you?" the bandit asked in agony.
He didn't know why or how, but a name came to the young man. It sounded like his name. It felt right.
"My name's Arian," he said. "And as you can tell, I'm a bit of a badass."
With a last swing Arian ended the bandit's agony by decapitating him. The head rolled around the floor and Arian watched it for a few moments. Then blowing a sigh he put a hand behind his head and looked around.
Noting the damage he had done, he commented to himself, "Wow, I am a bit of a badass."
Arian stepped over the bodies, the great sword still in his right hand. He walked over the rooms they had come from and checked inside. There were eight wooden beds and chests at the beds ends inside, and he reasoned this must have been where the bandits lived. Arian walked over and checked the chests for anything he could use. As guilty as he felt for looting, they tried to kill him so he really didn't feel all that guilty.
Walking out of that room, Arian saw one other little cubby and went to see what was inside. There he saw a bigger room with a much nicer bed and more ornaments. On the wall was a Horker head, and there were soul gems on the bedside table. Again, Arian didn't know how he knew what those were, he just did.
Shrugging it off, Arian realized whoever was in charge of the bandits probably lived in this room. Looking to the bedside table, he saw there was a gold amulet connected to a large gold chain. With a whistle he picked it up and looked at it.
"This will probably set me up for a little while," Arian said as he thought about the gold he could get for selling it. Then he saw a fur cloak on the ground, and guessing it was cold outside decided it might be nice to take with him.
Not long after Arian had the cloak hung over his shoulders, covering his torso and a bit of his upper legs. Walking back through the mess hall where the three raider corpses still were he decided it was time to see what the outside world was like. Plus he didn't want to be there when the other bandits got back.
Walking back the way he had come from he felt the nip of the cold wind and saw the blinding light that led to the exit. Sucking in his trepidation, Arian continued forward and emerged out onto the side of the mountain.
There was a blizzard whipping snow in Arian's face, trying to blind him. But through the trees and the snow Arian could make out an ocean off in the distance with cascading ice blocks that seemed to stretch for miles. The snow shone brilliantly, drifting off the cliffs before him. He couldn't help but be taken aback at the majesty of the landscape before him.
However those cliffs were awfully steep and Arian wasn't sure if he could tackle them. Turning around, he looked up the side of the mountain he was on and saw there was a trail, albeit a hazardous one, that he could take up. Maybe from higher ground he could a better idea of where to go next, Arian reasoned.
Steeling his resolve, Arian pulled the fur cloak tighter to his chest and began to climb. The wind bit at his legs and he began to lose feeling in them. More than once he reached a steep rock face that he'd need to climb. At the first one which was about twice his size he spent more time then he would have like to spend standing still planning his ascent. Hand over hand, foot over foot, Arian made his way up the steep terrain, grunting and feeling his hands blister and under the pressure of the rocks.
Taking more energy than he could have imagined, Arian stopped and fell onto his back upon reaching the top as he panted for air. It was tempting to stay there for a while but a determined voice in his head forced him to get up and keep going. He came across two more steep rock faces like that as he hiked up the trail. The second one seemed easier and although his muscles strained he felt as if his body was lighter.
Then at the third one, one that was well over four times his height, once he got halfway up his hand slipped. Arian fell backwards unable to maintain his gripping with just one hand. He hit the snow with a soft thud, the white powder cushioning his fall. Much to his dismay he continued to roll however, tumbling over top of himself down the trail he had just walked up.
As he finally rolled to a stop Arian didn't know which limb of his body was where. He groaned disheartened, sad at the progress he had lost. A look back up saw that he was almost at the top of the mountain or at least at a plateau. He sighed and let the snow gather on his body. A warm feeling overcame him and he smiled contently.
"Maybe…I'll just lie here a while…" Arian said as he looked up at the white powder descending upon him. He didn't know where he came from or who he was really. But the icy cold of Skyrim's winter had bested him regardless. It was okay to die like this.
"Oye, there he is!" shouted a voice, snapping Arian back into reality. Sitting up, he looked down the trail he ascended to see five bandits running towards him. One was adorned in pale green armor from neck to toe and he had pale green skin with tusks that protruded from his mouth. He had one yellow eye and another eye that was scarred over. He gave Arian a look that reeked of murder.
An orc, he realized. And an angry one at that. He must have been the bandit chief, the way he commanded the other bandits to chase him. Arian knew he had two choices. Get stabbed to death by pointy objects, or run and try to keep living for a little bit longer. His will to live was renewed, and he scrambled to his feet.
Arian looked at the ascent he had previously failed, and gritted his teeth. He reached up and grabbed the first handle he could. Using that he propelled himself up fast, and clung to the highest protruding rock he could. It was a mad scramble to get up high but the shouting of the bandits was getting closer and closer. One fired an arrow at him and it bounced off the cliff wall just a few inches below his feet.
He reached the top and tried to grab the ledge but slipped. This time his second hand held and he dangled helplessly for a moment. But he was an easy target there and the bandits were almost at the foot of that cliff. Again an arrow soared his way and Arian had to lean his head off to the side to avoid a hole in the head. Using all the strength he could muster in his upper torso, Arian swung himself and reached again for the ledge.
His hand gripped a rock tightly just over the ledge. Arian grunted as he felt the rock dig into his skin. But it was enough of a handle for Arian to climb upwards and finally Arian was able to scale the side of the mountain. There was little time to celebrate however as more arrows flew his way. Breaking out into a run, Arian dashed across the plateau off the mountain.
There were trees and hills on top of the mountain but Arian could see no more cliff faces so he figured he must have been at the top. He ran for a minute then saw the edge of the mountain he was standing on. Covering his eyes to block out the snow, he tried to look for a way down to get away from the bandits. But the storm was worse than ever there, and Arian could only see a white mist in front of him. He had no idea how high up he was from the ground there.
Suddenly an arrow whizzed past his ear and Arian spun around. The bandits were fast and had caught up to him. Arian cursed his luck and drew the great sword he had stolen from his back. Sure, he had kicked the crap out of the three bandits. But here there were five and that bandit chief looked ugly and tough.
"So, you kill my men, steal my possessions and expect to get away? Tough chance little man," the orc said as he approached Arian. His voice was deep and rash. Arian stared the orc down, his grip around the hilt of the sword tightening.
"Hey, you're missing something. I also rubbed my balls on your throne too!" Arian proclaimed, making the orc growl.
"I am Unalock, bandit king of the north! Who are you to defile my home?" Unalock asked.
"The name's Arian," Arian said, feeling more confident in saying his own name out loud. "And it's kind of tough to be king of seven people. Or should we make that four?"
"Kill him and bring me his heart!" Unalock yelled.
Another arrow flew Arian's way, but Arian brought up his sword and let it bounce off of the blunt side. The other two bandits ran at Arian and Arian charged back. The first one to reach Arian swung wildly with a one-handed axe. Arian ducked and then spun with a wild swing. A trail of blood sprayed the ground as the bandit collapsed.
The second bandit swung with a mace upon reaching Arian. Arian planted his hand on the ground and spun flipped backwards to avoid the swing. Landing deftly, Arian charged forward and swung again, but the bandit blocked it with a large copper shield. The hit still made the bandit recoil and Arian charged forward. As he barely dodged another arrow, Arian realized he needed to do something about that archer.
Instead of attacking the bandit with the mace and shield, Arian reached forward and grabbed the large copper disk from his hand. The bandit was startled by the strategy and did little to resist as Arian tore it from his hands. Arian then flung wildly with the shield and hit the bandit in the face with the broad side, knocking him off his feet. Just before the archer could fire another arrow, Arian threw the shield like a discus at the attacker. It hit him in the chest and sent him into a sprawl on his back as he fell over winded.
Arian grinned, but suddenly he heard Unalock yell, "Enough!" Turning to face the orc he barely blocked an attack from a curved, green great sword. The sword was as large as his and Unalock swung it with such force that Arian went sliding backwards atop the snow. He was now closer to the side of the mountain then he would have liked but he didn't have time to do anything about it. Arian barely had a moment to think when Unalock was upon him again, swinging down on him. In the nick of time Arian lifted his sword up and blocked he ferocious attacker but he felt his knee buckle as the power of Unalock's sword.
It was like a mountain was pushing down on top of him and Arian needed a desperate out. Gambling with his life, Arian switched to one hand holding the sword and reached for some snow. Grabbing a large clump with his hand Arian tossed it up and threw it in Unalock's face. It stunned him for a moment and that was all Arian needed. Arian was able to push Unalock's attack upwards, sending Unalock into a prone position.
Then with a powerful swing Arian punched Unalock in the face. Unalock stumbled backwards in shock, rubbing the remaining snow off his face. Arian back stepped slightly, trying to create some space between him and his mighty opponent.
Although Arian didn't pay it much mind, in the distance he heard a strange sound, like the beating of wings.
"You…you have a death wish," Unalock stated.
"If I did I wouldn't be fighting you, would I?" Arian answered with a small smirk.
The sound of the flapping wings and rushing wings seemed closer now, and it began to pique Arian's interest. Even in the middle of this battle, Arian was beginning to wonder what it was.
"I will tear out your heart and eat it!" Unalock said, but the last few words of his threat were drowned out by a roar. It was a large, inhuman roar that came from behind Unalock and he turned around to look in surprise. For a moment the snow let up just enough for the two to see what was coming.
It had large bat like wings. Large claw-like talons extended were at the end of its powerful legs. At the front of its pointed, horned snout were a set of razor sharp teeth. Its eyes were as red as blood, and everything about its large grey-scaled, intimidating, spiked body shook Arian to his core.
A dragon.
Unalock shrieked a high pitch scream, something unfitting the warrior Arian had just crossed swords with. He turned and ran in Arian's direction trying to get away from the dragon that was barreling down before them. Arian thought to run too, even though the only way he could run from the dragon was off the side of the mountain. Just as he spun around, the force of nature that was the dragon was already upon them.
With a mighty thrash of its jaws it scooped up Unalock in its mouth. In a bloody crunch Unalock's life was taken. Arian heard the snap of the dragon's mouth and he could assume Unalock was dead. He tried to run, and felt a mighty gust of wind blow over head as the dragon flew over top of him. For a moment he thought he might be safe, the dragon satisfied with its meal.
But then suddenly the dragon's tail swooped in and hit Arian in the back as it flew past. Arian was hit off his feet and propelled forward. The force of the hit sent Arian flying forward, and for a moment he felt completely weightless as he flew over the side of the mountain. He looked up and saw the dragon fly away into the distance, and then looked down at where he was going to crash.
"This was not a great start to my day," Arian commented to himself mid-air.
Arian hit the side of the mountain and lost himself amid a flurry of snow and rocks.
