Chapter 1: The Young Wolf

Alek didn't care for the farm. When he was pushing the plow and urging the ox to pull it through the unyielding dirt, all Alek could think about were the more enjoyable lessons in sword play or the fascinating lessons in history that he had once been taught. When he was sowing seeds in the earth, all Alek could think of were the livelier pastimes he enjoyed with his friends in the bustling city. When he and his mother, Elayna, slept in their rickety shack, with the summer's rainwater dripping through the leaky ceiling, all Alek thought of were the dry rooms and warm hearths of the old keep. When winter set upon them this past year, Alek had dreamed of those hearths, that had always been maintained throughout day and night. When he and his mother sat down for dinner in their small hut with barely two rooms, enjoying another disappointing crop of leeks and cabbages or the rare bit of game that his mother had joyously found the time to hunt for, all Alek thought of were the grand feasts he had loved in the dining hall of Castle Kvatch.

He had remembered his birthday two months prior, during First Seed, it had been a quaint thing. One celebrated with the few country friends that Alek had made. The harvest hadn't come in yet, they had only just started planting, so even the larger meal was somewhat limited in its appeal. An extra portion of some barely grown lettuce and leaks and, of course, they began to clear out the winter stores of radishes and old nuts. The greatest luxuries that day were the wheel of cheese Elayna had won from Loren's family, and the fresh venison that Alek's mother had managed to hunt down a few days prior.

'I suppose I have my father to thank for that, at least.' Alek thought to himself, it was fortunate that the Lord Goldwine had granted them the right to hunt in his forests. But even with a luxury like that, his birthday celebration, and even the celebrations on the day of South Wind's Prayer, didn't compare to the feasts of the castle.

He had been here some years now, and Alek had grown into a strong young man. His mind was often occupied with the work of the farm, the business of selling their produce, setting aside the lord's portion of the harvest, or with more trivial things like how his red hair was beginning to grow a little too long for his liking and needed a cut.

But when they brought their produce to market, and Alek caught a glimpse of the life he had once taken for granted, he was filled with envy. Shops and taverns, filled to the brim with food and drink that Alek had once only needed to flash a few Septims at to see his desires granted. Alek would jiggle the handful of coppers that they earned for the day, and he'd frown at the city's arena. The roar of the crowd could be heard over the high walls of the stadium, tempting and torturing Alek's ears, but the cost of admittance was beyond him now. To view another of Kvatch's famous gladiatorial matches that rivaled those of the Imperial City, that would have made Alek's month.

Life was duller now, Alek would often catch himself wishing to see one of the plays in the amphitheater. He remembered how he had gone with his mother and father to see the exciting play about Empress Kintyra II and the Wolf Queen. But now they had to save their money to hire a carpenter to fix up their roof, build a barn, buy some livestock, and hire a few farmhands to tend the crop. All their money needed to go into expanding the farm.

Alek had been happy once, you see. When he had thought his father and mother more than happy together, when he saw himself as his father's son. Alek knew he was naïve then; his mother was merely the daughter of a grave keeper, one that had risen as an adventurer in Count Goldwine's service. A strong woman that could have once boasted of her beauty, as much as she did her grand deeds, had caught the Count's attention. It was but a dream however, there was never much chance that the Count would reach below his station and marry a woman of low birth. A lord's position required a marriage with a woman of a higher stature. And when the noble Count Goldwine found his noble bride, well, the new high-born countess did not appreciate the other woman and her son. And so, Count Goldwine packed them off to a small plot of land outside the city, at the bottom of the cliff, and he promptly forgot about them.

This is where they found themselves though, in the month of Second Seed, leaving the city behind them, riding their oxcart down Kvatch's steep hill with the fog of the early morning only now lifting in the late day. There was much to occupy their minds this time of year, the seeds for the next crop had to be planted soon, the harvest from the first crop had to be sold or preserved, and there was always so much more work to be done. But it was at times like this, returning from another disappointing market day, that Alek would have some time to think about the state of their lives. His mother would always tell him to have some cheer, her years of wisdom had taught her that you could always find happiness in something.

"Look at the wonderful view we have from here, outside the city." She flicked her auburn hair aside as she tried to ease her son's distress. "The people in the city, surrounded by its high walls, go without the sight of the forests and graceful hills of the Gold Coast."

"Anyone can leave the city if they want." Alek replied with a huff.

"The city folk are less connected to the Great Forest, the West Weald, and pay little mind to the beautiful rolling hills of the Gold Coast, and even less to the mountain lands of the Colovian Highlands." Elayna would simply reiterate with a smile. "Yes, no one knows the lands of Colovia likes us."

"I'd rather spend the day with my friends, at the arena or something other than looking at trees." Alek added, unwilling to relent.

"It was these lands, these wilds, that started my profession as an adventurer." His mother grew more serious, giving Alek a frown. "You may want to get to know these lands better, Alexius, adventuring was what granted me independence from your grandfather and the family's crowded little hut."

"I know the countryside well enough." Alek tried to cut in. "And you don't need to tell me the story, mom, I've heard it near a hundred times."

His mother carried on anyways. "If I hadn't seized the opportunity, I'd have spent most of my years digging graves alongside my father, at least until I found someone to marry. Graves, that's all there was to our family. We were the grave keepers, and that was our only identity, but I wasn't going to let that be all there was to my life. I got out, I joined the Fighter's Guild, and I learned. It was dangerous at times, but I made a good living there. It was on an assignment that I met your father, he-"

"I don't want to hear about him." Alek all but shouted.

"Alek!" His mother yelled, giving him a fierce look. "Don't take that tone with me."

"He sent us away, he doesn't care about us." Alek carried on petulantly.

"Ormellius is a complicated man." Elayna leaned back in the cart. "He's done right by his people, but…" She trailed off. "Well, there's no use thinking about it now."

As they pulled up to the farm, she added. "You might want to join the fighter's guild, make sure your sword skill isn't rusty. I hear the baron of Dasek Moor has contracted the guild hall in Kvatch, he has some problem with bandits, and now the guild hall is looking for more recruits to handle it. Could be good work."

"I suppose." Alek said noncommittedly, but truth be told, he was starting to grow attached to the idea of striking out on his own. He wanted more in life, more than this.

"It could be good paying work. Heavens know you can handle it." Elayna continued proudly as she hopped off the cart. "And by the time the job is done, the harvest is likely to have come in."

Alek began to unshackle the oxen as he considered it. "I'll head into Kvatch on the morrow and apply at the guild hall."

His mother beamed at that, but as the day's fog began to lift, Alek noticed a group of men approaching from down the road.

"Hey, you recognize those fellows?" Alek questioned, peering down the path away from their farm. The men looked to be outfitted for a fight. They all carried an assortment of swords, daggers, and axes. They wore mostly shaggy linens and furs. A couple were on horseback though, with one big one even being outfitted with a mean looking suit of iron armor.

"They aren't in uniform, not the Count's men, and they don't look like Lord Ostius' men either." A worried look was growing on Elayna's face. "Could be boys from the Fighter's Guild." She added, although she didn't appear confident in that. "Bring me my sword and shield, I don't like this."

Alek rushed to the house, threw open the door, and tore two swords and a shield off the wall. When he came back out, the men were walking up the yard towards his mother.

As Alek handed off a sword and shield to Elayna she called out to the men. "That's close enough! Who are you, and why have you come here?"

"Why, we're the Count's men." A wiry man on horseback declared, a weaselly grin sprouting on his face. "Come to collect a tax, you see, me and my boys need to get paid."

"You men aren't the Count's; you don't bear the wolf sigil of Kvatch."

"Regardless, we will have our due." The wiry man added as he signaled his men. They began to fan out, surrounding Alek and his mother.

"Don't let them get behind us!" Elayna called out, shifting left towards Alek and springing forwards to closest foe. With a quick swing, the sword impacted on the man's shield, but his shield was brought low, and Elayna followed up her strike with strike from the edge of her shield aimed straight for his face. With a crack, the man crumbled. The man's fellow lunged after Elayna's exposed side, but Alek caught his blade with his own and, with a twist, cut deep through the man's arm. He cried out and retreated.

The final two on foot were more cautious, and remained close beside one another. Together the two angled themselves to the side, to keep them in front Alek and Elayna would expose themselves to the two on horseback.

The two came upon them, one hacking and slashing at Elayna's shield with his axe, the other rushing Alek with his shield held high. The man with the shield bowled into Alek and brought him to the ground, knocking the wind right out of him.

They grappled there, Alek gasping for breath. The bandit tried angling his short sword for Alek's neck, but Alek seized his arm, they struggled, the blade inching its way towards Alek's throat.

As the cold steel began to press against Alek's throat, drawing a trickle of blood, Elayna tackled the bandit. The two hurtled to the side, the bandit now skewered on Elayna's blade.

Alek struggled to his feet, trying to regain his breath. He noticed his mother had a large cut upon her face, and it bled profusely. Her own opponent still stood, catching his breath, as Alek's own earlier foe rejoined him.

"Enough of this! Urz, kill them!" The wiry man shouted as Alek struggled to his feet, gasping for breath.

The large man in the iron suit kicked his feet and urged his horse forwards, raising up a large and very deadly looking mace.

"Alek, run!" His mother shout, putting her weight behind pulling her sword out of the newly deceased bandit. She just barely had the time to raise her shield as the iron man brought his mace down, crashing it into her shield and splintering it into pieces. The force of the blow threw Elayna to the ground, she scrambled to her feet as the iron man, an orc from what Alek made out, pulled the reins of his horse and turned it around for another charge.

"Run!" Elayna yelled once more, her shield broken and now cast aside on the ground.

Alek ran.

"Damn it." The wiry man growled out, as he spurred his horse after Alek. "You two quit standing around, grab any valuables in the house and burn the rest!"

Alek was running full tilt to the tree line at the edge of the farm. If he makes it to the woods, he might be able to lose his pursuer. But it was not to be, the wiry man was too fast on horseback and was soon upon him. Alek tried to make a blow at the man's leg, but the bandit deflected it, and with a follow up he sliced through Alek's upper arm. It was with a slight twist that Alek narrowly avoided a serious wound.

The bandit had pulled up alongside Alek now, and with a thrust Alek tore into the man's horse. The animal bucked and reared, throwing the wiry man from its saddle. The bandit scrambled to his feet, too quickly for Alek to take advantage.

"You bastard!" He shouted, his face twisting and turning red. He lunged forward with his blade, Alek jumped to the side, but the blade caught and sliced into his right side and glanced off a rib.

Alek tried to counter, cutting the man upon the cheek, but the bandit brought his blade up and twisted Alek's own blade from his grasp. Disarmed, Alek could only think to do one thing. Alek charged the man, putting every ounce of his weight and strength behind his tackle. Then they were on the ground, Alek seized the man's sword arm and pinned it to the ground. The wiry man used his free hand to send punch after punch into Alek's wounded side. But Alek didn't relent, and brought his own fists down upon the man's face. Again, again, again, and again he brought his fist down on the man. The bandit's nose cracked, his teeth came loose, and his face became a bloody mess. When the man below him finally grew still, Alek relented and rose to his feet. He looked back at the farm to see the remaining bandits lighting the farmhouse with touches, and the massive orc coming down from his horse. Alek's mother was struggling to rise, she was unsteady on her feet and collapsed to the ground, again and again. When she rose to her hands and knees, the iron man stood before her. She looked up, and the orc brought his mace down.

Alexius ran to the woods once more.

He ran, and ran, until he came upon the Lord Ostius' estate. Alexius pleaded with the lord for his help, and Lord Ostius rallied his small retinue of soldiers and knights to hunt down the bandits. Alexius asked a favor before departing with the Lord and his men, that Ostius send a message to Kvatch, and the Count.

It was not long before Alexius and Lord Ostius' men reached the burnt-out husk of a building that had so recently been home to Alek. The battered and bloodied body of Alexius' mother was found with a caved in skull. As Lord Ostius sent men to search the countryside, Alexius searched the ruined farmhouse. There wasn't much to salvage. As the hours passed and the sun began to set, the banners of Kvatch were spotted up the countryside. Count Goldwine and his retinue had arrived.

Alexius was in shock over the total loss that he had just experienced, perhaps that is why he did not yell or scream at the father that he had been so embittered against mere hours ago. In the years that followed, Alexius would remember the faint memory of his father placing a hand upon his shoulder and telling him words of shared sorrow. The memory that remained sharply in Alexius' mind however, was his mother wrapped in linen, and his father suggesting a new life away from these terrible memories. Alexius would have laughed at the suggestion, if he had it in him, no distance could do away with this memory. But in the following days, he did as his father commanded. He sold the farm where he had spent so much of his life, tossed most of the funds he received into an account at the bank in Kvatch, boarded the cart that his father had paid for, and set out for the Imperial City, to join the Ruby Ranks.

And there's the first chapter of a new fic. Alexius, the bastard of the Count of Kvatch, has lost his mother and his home to a roving band of outlaws. Whether there's anything more to this chance event we'll have to wait and see, but at the very least it will launch our hero down a very different path in life from what he had expected.

This will be only the second story I've published, and the first one in the Elder Scrolls fandom, but I couldn't help myself from writing something down after getting back into Oblivion again over the past couple months. I'll be trying to keep the chapters a little shorter than I have for my other fic, try and cut down on some of the more superfluous language I tend to have.

I think I might try to expand the world a little bit from what we see in the games. Cyrodiil won't be just 9 cities, though the canon cities will remain the major hubs in my alternate Cyrodiil. But I want to add in smaller lordships and extra counties, populate the Nibenay significantly more, and just make the center of the Empire feel a little more densely populated and built up.

I hope you all enjoy!