A/N: I (unfortunately) do not own The Elder Scrolls series. All I own are some of the characters in this. A few characters are ones made up by friends. If you would like a character in this story, pm me and we'll see what I can do. A lot of the things in this story will be inspired by mods I have. Any mods that I describe in this story belong to their respective developers. I will link to any mod I mention in a chapter. If you have a mod you want featured in this story, again, please message me and I'll check out the mod and see if I can work it in.
Shavir ignored the crowd, he ignored their cheering and mocking, he ignored the taunting of his opponent, and most importantly he ignored the pain in his shoulder, where he had just been stabbed. He quickly blocked an incoming blow from the Orc's great sword with his Dwarven shield and countered with his Daedric sword, which was quickly parried and his blade was knocked out of his hands. Shit the Khajiit thought as he quickly rolled out of the way as the Orc's sword hit the spot where he was standing. Shit, shit, shit, SHIT he continuously cursed in his head as he dodged a swipe. "What's the matter, kitty?" the Orc sneered, taking another swing with his sword, "No more tricks up your sleeves?" Shavir quickly rolled behind the Orc and threw a steel knife into the back of the knee of the Orc.
"No, just waiting for an opening." Shavir grinned as the Orc fell to the floor.
"FINISH HIM OFF!" One member of the crowd cheered.
"COME ON, GET UP!" another cried. Quickly, Shavir jumped to his feet and picked up his sword and shield, and quickly sheathed his sword. The crowd groaned with disappointment and started booing, until Shavir held up a single finger. Smiling, the white furred Khajiit strutted over to where the Orc lay and kneeled down.
"This one thanks you for a good fight. You die honorably, son of Malacath."
"Just get it over with, cat." Though the comment was rude, there was suddenly a look of gratefulness, and pride in the Orc that was lacking before Shavir said those words. Shavir nodded and grabbed the Orc's great sword, and plunged it deep into his chest. As the ring announcer's voice rang out above the crowd.
"YOUR WINNER, AND STILL CHAMPION OF THE RIFTEN FIGHTING CLUB, SHAVIR"
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH" Shavir cheered and raised his arms as the crowd chanted his name. He then left through the door to his team's barracks. He was greeted by the leader of his team.
"Good fight, as always, Shavir."
"Good challenge as always, you knows how to pick them."
"I have to send the best at all of my fighters; otherwise they'll get bored and leave." Shavir laughed at the observation.
"One must admit, Arean, bandit camps are easier to find." The Khajiit and Dark Elf shared a laugh at this.
"Speaking of which, I hear you're leaving us soon."
"I am, I've been called back to my home away from home. I'll probably only remain in Skyrim for a few more months, and then I'm back to the warm sands of Esylwer."
Arean looked hard at Shavir as he drank from a fountain of healing potion. "Shav, you do realize that this means you'll be forfeiting your crown, right?"
Shavir wiped his chin. "I do. This one loves the arena, but he longs for home. I do ask that you hang my shield on the wall of champions." Arean nodded at this request. "Good, now. I need to collect my pay and have a drink."
"Don't get too drunk, the last thing we need in this place is a drunken brawl in the tavern." Shavir laughed again and headed up the ladder to the tavern area. The patrons cheered at his arrival. He smiled and pushed his way through the crowd as people tried to slap him on the back, give him drink, and even hug him.
"Ha ha, stop, stop, I need to collect my pay." Shavir chuckled as he made his way to the betting booth.
"Shavir! You did good, made me a lot of money." The clerk said
"Speaking of which…"
"Right, right, of course." He chuckled as he handed a bag of gold Septims to the Khajiit. Shavir thanked him and made his way back to the bar.
"HERE'S ONE ON THE HOUSE!" the bartender cheered as he tossed a bottle of Alto Wine to Shavir, who easily caught it and raised it up.
"Cheers, friend." Shavir, took a quick swig and then stopped. Everyone stopped. The whole arena, including the fight going on in the ring stopped. The Riften alarm bells were ringing.
"What's going on up there?" someone called out.
"Should we send someone to take a look?" there was no need, as Talen-Jei, owner of the Bee and Barb slid down the ladder into the fight club.
"Talen, what's going on up there?" Shavir called at him.
"A dragon is heading towards Riften." Talen replied.
"So? I thought, the Dragonborn was staying at your inn, let him deal with it." A drunken man called out.
"WAS staying, he left last night for Solitude and is probably past Ivarstead by now. We're on our own, we need everyone who's able to fight to grab what armor and weapons they have and gather with the town guard." All those who weren't drunk or injured quickly scrambled for their weapons. Shavir made a split second decision and quickly slid down the ladder into his barracks and ran to the Champion's quarters. He opened up a chest containing a set of light armor. It contained boots, gauntlets, and a cowl that could cover one's face. It was black with a skeleton design on the chest and back. He swiftly stuffed his Elven armor into the chest and put on this set of armor. He grabbed his Daedric bow and his Elven arrows and went up into the town, he ran to where all the warriors were gathering. Unmid Snow-Shod, the Jarl's housecarl, was giving a motivational speech. But Shavir wasn't listening; he was getting ready for the fight, focusing his entire body on the Akaviri fighting style. Strikes fast, don't favor strength over speed. Strike fast, that's the only way you'll survive. Unmid's speech must have ended for everyone started rushing through the Riften gate. Shavir shifted his focus on running with the others, drawing his bow in preparation. Everyone heard it's roar, and they all looked around.
"Where is it?" Mjoll the Huntress asked, her sword raised.
Shavir spotted it as it started flying towards them. "THERE!" he yelled and quickly knocked an arrow and aimed, focusing on the dragon. Time seemed to slow as he aimed [A/N: In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to describe the steady shot here] he aimed a little bit forward from where the dragon was flying and fired. The dragon flew overhead, and roared in pain as Shavir's arrow hit it's chest. At that moment, a barrage of arrows started flying at the dragon as everyone who had a bow opened fire. A few mages cast frost and lightning based spells at the dragon as it roared fire overhead. Shavir kept firing arrows at the dragon, until it landed. Quickly, everyone charged at the dragon. Shavir, pulled out a javelin and tossed it into the dragon's eye. The dragon roared in pain, and only a few of the people in the first line managed to roll out of the way as the dragon spit fire. Shavir rammed his sword into the dragon's side and lifted himself onto it's back. He dug the blade in and moved forward quickly, cutting through flesh, finally removing it when he reached it's neck. He jumped onto it's head, smacked it with the side of his blade and drove the sword deep into the dragon's brain. The dragon gave one last weak roar as it fell to the ground and Shavir jumped off.
"Good work everybody, especially you, Khajiit." Unmid said. Everyone started to head off but Shavir stopped, he noticed he was glowing.
"Wait, something's happening to me!" Everyone turned around and witnessed what was happening, a strange light was going from the dragon to Shavir. It finally stopped. Mjoll looked at the Khajiit.
"Shavir…try to shout something." Shavir calmed himself and let out a shout of the first thing that came to mind.
"ZUN!" He shouted, and 5 guards suddenly dropped their weapons all at once.
Several voices cried out from the crowd, "Impossible!"
"It can't be!"
"I thought we already had one!"
Mjoll looked at the Khajiit. "Well my friend, it appears you're dragonborn."
"That's impossible, this one can't be dragonborn!" Just then he was interrupted by a shout coming from the west.
"DOOOOOVAAAAAAHKIIIIIIIIIN!"
"Well, cat. It appears the Greybeards disagree with you. You should head to High Hrothgar immediately."
Shavir looked at his hands, sighed and then nodded. "You're right, Mjoll." He then waved goodbye to everyone and headed off down the path to Ivarstead.
A/N: Not too happy with that ending, but I wanted to finish this in a hurry. Anyways, one of the mods I mentioned in this chapter is hidden at the moment, so I'll just leave you with the name. It's called the Riften Fight Club. The other two I mentioned were Black Tower and Black Sacrament Armor Pack( skyrim dot nexusmods dot com/mods/5696) and Death From Afar(skyrim dot nexusmods dot com/ mods/14176). By the way, as far as combat goes I highly recommend Deadly Combat ( skyrim dot nexusmods dot com/mods/mods/5485) and Locational Damage( skyrim dot nexusmods dot com/mods/mods/12615)