Part One: In Vain
Chapter One: Leaving the Past
Varzo Gurkan 4E 802, Fredas, 3rd of Sun's Dawn
Location: Home, Northern Skyrim, The Pale
The scar that swept across Varzo Gurkan's left cheek was a reminder to him of why he had left his family and his past behind him. He had made many sacrifices to be able to live out here, on his own. Many of which were difficult to think about.
He had sacrificed his family. A chance at wealth. An easy and lazy life. Visitors often question why he had abandoned his family, and why he had chosen this spot to live. He told all of the adventurers the same thing: "Because it's what I wanted to do. And this is as far away as I could get from them."
While that was part of the reason, he never revealed the full truth. And he never revealed how he had received the scar. When he lived in Hammerfell, he had a sister, a mother, and a father. He loved his sister and his mother, but he couldn't say the same for his father. He was an unloving and selfish drunk. Never once had he showed any affection to his son. But one day he showed violence, and that's how Varzo got his scar.
Sitting in the dark corner of the basement of their old home was a dark object with a face of fear. When Varzo reached the bottom of the staircase, he thought he was too late to realize it was his sister. Standing in front of her was a tall man with a dagger in his hand.
"Stay away from her, Jatius," Varzo boldly addressed his father by his real name.
"What did you just say?" Jatius replied. "You don't call your father by his first name."
"You're not my father," Varzo said. "You never were. Now drop the dagger and back away." Varzo tried hard not to cry. At sixteen years old he had no idea where his mother was, and his father was about to kill his only sibling. He did a great job trying to remain calm.
Jatius spun around and sliced Varzo's cheek. As the blood poured out, his sister began to cry in agony. "Run!" Varzo hissed at his sister. She obeyed him and hurried upstairs. Varzo held a hand on his fresh wound as he saw his drunken father about to smash his head in with a cast iron pot. Varzo rolled out of the way and grabbed the dagger that Jatius had recently dropped. As he remained on the ground, his father continued to pursue him, but once he got close, Varzo jabbed the dagger into his stomach. But that's not all Varzo did.
He stabbed his father repeatedly, each time thinking about what Jatius could have done for his family. How many "I love you's" he had skipped, how many hugs he had skipped, how many family dinners he had skipped, how many "I'm sorry's" he didn't bother to apologize with. Each jab of the dagger was a way for Varzo to let out all his pain.
Varzo threw the dagger on the ground and left it there for good. He never wanted to see any memories of this place again. He left everything he had there. Everything. He took nothing with him to Skyrim but an axe and a pair of clothes. He left his ten year old sister there, not knowing whether she had a mother to take care of her or not. He felt in his heart that his mother was still living.
Never again did he want to see anything like it again. He wanted no memory of it. But the scar across his cheek would prevent him from forgetting every single time he peeked in the mirror. After he killed his father, he knew there was no way he was going to continue living a normal life. But he did his best to start a new one.
Five years later, Varzo sits on top of a boulder with a fishing rod in his hands. He felt the weight of the string being pulled into the Sea of Ghosts, and he began to reel in. He could see how close he was to catching a monster of a fish. As he grabbed a net to haul the fish in, he spotted his reflection staring back at him in the crystal water.
It was the first time he had seen himself in months. The first time he had seen his scar in months. Before he could shake it off, the fish got released from the hook and swam away. Varzo frowned in disappointment as he grabbed his fishing gear and headed back to his shack. A courier stood at his doorstep, waiting for Varzo to approach.
"Hello?" Varzo greeted the courier. He rarely saw strangers pass by. Usually the only people who came out to see Varzo were adventurers.
"The Jarl of Dawnstar gave me this note. He wanted me to deliver it to you." The courier straightened his hat. "Something about not having a land deed."
Varzo opened the note and read it aloud. He cleared his throat and began: "We are aware that you have been living out here in The Pale without a land deed. As you know, you are not allowed to build property in a hold without the Jarl's permission. If you do not come out and pay the fee, we will have to take down the house ourselves."
"Well, um...I better get going now," The courier said as he turned around and started to walk away.
"Wait!" Varzo shouted. "I've been living here for about five years now. Why is the Jarl just now contacting me about this? Surely this must be a mistake?" Varzo scratched his shaved head and played with his small black goatee.
"I'm just a courier, sir. I haven't a clue if it is a mistake or not. Perhaps you should speak to him."
"Where is Dawnstar? I've never been there." Varzo hadn't been to any of Skyrim's capital cities. The second day he made it to Skyrim was when he found the land that he built his cabin on. He had never moved away from the spot.
"It's directly east of here, a very short walk. I can take you there if you'd like." Varzo followed behind the courier. He wore only a greenish tunic and light pants. The climate of Skyrim was definitely harsh, but after living there for many years, he had gotten used to it. Though, even with his built up resistance to the cold, he could feel the heavy blizzard pressing against his body.
After about ten minutes, the two had passed a small mountain and approached Dawnstar. It was surely a bigger village than it was in previous years. If walls were thrown up around it, it would most likely be named a city. Houses stood row by row next to each other, as multiple boats and fishermen were lined up in the docks.
"All these years, I've lived so close to this place and never even had a clue about it," Varzo told the courier. Varzo didn't really "want" to know about it. He enjoyed being isolated from people.
"Aye, it is truly a magnificent village," the courier replied. "Follow me. I will guide you to the Jarl's residence."
Varzo stopped examining the town and continued to wander behind the courier. He had finally stopped and pointed at the Jarl's headquarters. It was an enormous hall on the outside, and looked even bigger once Varzo was on the interior. In the back of the first room was a throne being guarded by a High Elf and a Redguard. Sitting in the throne was a grey scaled creature with two horns pointing upward from its head.
"You're the Jarl?..." Varzo asked, surprised by what he was seeing. "An Argonian?"
"Welcome, friend," The Argonian greeted him as he stepped up from his throne. "I seem to get that reaction quite a lot. My name is Sarelius. What's yours? Why have you come to me?"
"Thank you for the welcoming," Varzo said as he pulled out the note from his pocket. "I was given this note today about the threat to my home. Why is it that you waited until now to contact me about it? And what is the fee I must pay in order to keep it?"
"Ah, yes. The land deed. There has not been very much trouble in Skyrim recently, though I fear that is quickly changing. Many shacks and houses built in the wilds have been burnt down or destroyed. We brought you here to ask you if you would rather live here in Dawnstar. It would be much safer."
"So the land deed was basically fake? I can keep my shack without paying a fee?" Varzo was a bit confused.
"Well, yes...but we don't want to see anymore of Skyrim's people die. I highly recommend you stay here."
"More people die? Who is it that's killing these people? Bandits? I'm quite sure I ca handle a few bandits."
"It's something more powerful than bandits. Sadly, no one has lived to tell us what they saw."
Varzo wasn't nervous about the threat. In fact, he thought the Jarl was lying to him. He wondered if he just wanted him to buy a house so that Sarelius would make more money. "Many thanks for your offer, Jarl Sarelius. But I can't abandon my home. I'll stop by if I see anything suspicious."
"Watch yourself out there," The Jarl replied as Varzo left the hall.
When Varzo was halfway back home, the blizzard had stopped and the sun was up high. The weather looked clear. So clear that Varzo could smell and see smoke coming from the direction of his home.
He was running now, hurrying to see what was going on. At first he thought the Jarl may have sent people to burn his house himself, but his mind quickly changed as he arrived home. Three very tall figures stood in front of them with flames in their hands. Each one of them wearing a black coat with the symbol of Oblivion on the back of it.
Varzo just stood there and watched his home burn to the ground. Ashes and smoke filled the vicinity. Once again, Varzo Gurkan was going to have to live a new life.
The first true chapter is finished! Any questions, PM me. Please leave reviews! I'd like to know what you guys would like to see more of, or what I can improve on.
