Disclaimer: really, do you have to ask?
The ship was already departing back for Khuul. Doran's mother was on it, because she never liked the cold. She was the exact opposite of Doran. Doran was his father's child.
Doran went up to the main office of fort Frostmouth, inquiring to where his father was. The old imperial in charge told him that his father was on a ranging, looking for a missing Khajitt. Meanwhile, he could wander around the fort and the immediate area. But no farther. So, Doran decided to get a little bit of sleep, and found his fathers quarters, and went to sleep.
'BROOOO! BROOOO! BROOOO!' was all that Doran could hear when he woke up. Panic was all around him. He tried stopping all the rangers, but they couldn't seem to hear him. Finally, Doran found an old steward.
"Old man, what the hell is going on?" Doran practically screamed at him, to be heard above the panic.
"Others!" was all Doran could get out of him.
"Others, what are others?" he asked.
"The others are a race older than the daedra, and much more fearsome." a passing ranger told him in fear.
"Well, I guess that my bow will be put to good use on this trip" he smiled, not quite understanding it all.
"Out on the ramparts, with the other archers!" the head steward told him, shouting orders to everyone else.
Doran made it there, and nearly wet himself when he saw the enemy's numbers.
So, what'd you think? My first fic in a while, so bear with me as I get my muse back. R&R.