Tales of the Relic Hunter - An Elder Scrolls Story by RavenoftheFateless.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Elder Scrolls franchise, that belongs to Bethesda. I don't own Lucien Flavius, that belongs to Joseph Russell. I don't own Inigo (the Brave), that belongs to Smartbluecat. I don't own Legacy of the Dragonborn, that belongs to Icecreamassassin.
The Prologue
Hello there, wanderer! My name is Lucien Flavius. Scientist, philosopher, a learned wizard and something of a musician. Although, I suppose you could call that a hobby. A pleasure to meet you, traveler. You've heard of Ragnar the Red, correct? I could tell you've heard of the fabled Tiber Septim and his conquering of Tamriel. And there's definitely no need to tell you of the Oblivion Crises. I'm sure I could even tell you the legend and prophecy of the Dragonborn but why tell you tales you already know? Here's something different. I'll tell you something you've probably never heard. About a man who has had lost it all to start anew from the ashes. About a man who delved into dungeons and tombs. Temples and ruins. Fought draugr and dragons, men, mer and beast alike. It would be an epic tale of Heroes, of Villains. It would be of the Aedra and the Daedra. It would be of horrors and monsters. It would be of war, strife and a time of fear. It would have Warriors and Mages, Assassins and Thieves. It is of he who would be at the heart of forging this new legacy, a new legend for the land of Skyrim. This would be the man out of time and place. The man who fought alongside our greatest scholars and heroes of our time. A man who would become known as The Relic Hunter. His name? Brann Odinson. The Wise Raven of Solitude he would be. This is his tale, the Tales of the Relic Hunter.
Now, let me ask you this of Skyrim. What do you think, when you think of Skyrim? I would think of a cold, harsh land with little mercy for the weak and downtrodden. The cold northern province of Tamriel can take a man down, build him stronger or break him entirely. From what I know, Brann's arrival in Skyrim wasn't anything like that. He was almost quite literally, thrown into it. Head first, one could say. He's never truly told me of the circumstances behind his arrival in Skyrim, it's rather mysterious if I do say so but one thing he did tell me - Brann Odinson was not his original name. He would never tell me what it was, saying some things are better left forgotten. He had some odd mannerisms at times, he spoke as if he was from a different era sometimes, far into the future it felt like. He spoke fondly of his family and of his home but became melancholy when asked if he would ever return to them and he would simply say "I have no way to get there. They are beyond mortal reach, only the Gods could do it now." I had thought he meant his family was dead and his home, gone but the truth? Oh, it's so much stranger than fiction.
Sit back and relax, friend. I shall tell you this tale from the beginning. My knowledge of this tale is both first hand and second hand, from the friends I've made during my time in Skyrim. Perhaps you've heard of them? We were quite the odd group, I admit. There was myself, of course. There was Inigo, the bravest Khajiit I've ever met. Duncas Ulesaai - the Dragonborn, the fierce Dunmer who faced numerous world-threatening foes. We had more companions through our adventures and travels but the group that stayed consistent through them all were us four. Brann, myself, Inigo and Duncas.
We didn't start out knowing each other, of course. We came together over time. It all started with Brann. Before Duncas, Inigo or myself ever set foot in Skyrim. Here's how it all started...