"Finnegan get up."

"Five mer minutes," I mumbled sleepely.

"Get up, it's already 4:30." I scrambled up and promptly fell out of my bed. I slept on the bottom bunk with my older brother Conor. A bit of insight might explain why 4:30 in the morning is so important to us. Me and my brother were the wranglers ,though we switched off to milk our cow every week, for a little ranch our dad worked at. Our job description was wrangling horses early in the morning for the cowboy's who would be working that day. The horses weren't usually hard to find but the there were so many hidden holes in the pasture that it took a while to find them. And if it did take to long Conor and I would miss the bus to school.

Dad had moved from job to job dragging us along. He loved us but he got fidgety if he stayed in one place to long. Mom had left right after I was born not being able to handle the responsibility of raising two kids and dad's grasshopper like behavior. Good riddance.

Struggling up from the floor I found my clothes and put them on then rushed down the little hallway that led to our kitchen. I threw two pieces of bread in the toaster and sat down in a nearby chair. I tugged on my boots, put on a jacket, and my resistol hat knowing that the toast would just be cooling off by the time I got back. Then I stepped out the door. It was a short walk over to the corral where my horse was waiting. In no time flat he was saddled and ready to go but I let him eat his grain for a while as I watched Conor walk across the small yard holding steaming buckets of milk headed towards the cookhouse. For some reason the cook always used excessive amounts of butter on everything he made. No one knew why but I had a sneaking suspicion that he was so terrible at cooking he just used butter to cover it up. Of course no one could ask it as it would be an insult to the cook, and it was a rule you never insulted the cook, or his cooking.

As soon as my horse was finished eating I bridled him and rode out the gate into the horse pasture. I rode up onto a large hill. The hill provided a great view of the hills, valleys, and wide expanses of brush that stretched below me. I took the scene in for a moment knowing where everything was long before the sunrise would begin the daily roasting of the land. My attention was jerked back to my current task as I saw a small brown dot disappear over a hill.

"Gotcha now suckers."

Half an hour later I had found the horses but something was wrong. They were uneasy and restless. I couldn't pin the source of their agitation but I got the horses moving anyways. Halfway back a coyote came trotting out of a draw and started running at my horse. It wasn't odd for coyotes to be curious but this must be a pup to get so close. My horse started to freak out because he was a little green but that didn't stop the coyote. My horse started to back up. The coyote had stopped a few yards away and studied me for a moment.

Then he advanced again. And the world exploded. My horse wanted to turn and run but if he couldn't stand still for a coyote he was worse than useless so I kept him from running. Not being able to turn back he tried rearing. I managed to keep him on all fours with my spurs but he pushed off with a little too much gusto and flipped backwards. I had no time to think and no time to bail off. Pain erupted all over my body as circulation was destroyed at the core. Fear and pain were the only things I felt for the few seconds I lived before the darkness came.

Then I woke up staring at the crisp morning sky. The air was cleaner than I'd ever known it could be. I breathed some of it in. It felt like cool mountain stream water flowing down my throat. It was a sensation I will never forget.

I sat up slowly and looked around. I was in a small clearing with a small stream running nearby. Then I happened to notice my hands. They were covered in fur with claws at the end. I brought my hands closer. I flexed them to make sure they were mine. Then I tried flipping off someone and my right hand responded. Well there are two explanations for this and none of them are logical. One I'm still alive and my brain is in so much shock this happened or I'm dead and this is my afterlife. Wait if my hands have fur what about the rest of my body? I found a small pool pulled back some weird hood I was wearing and gasped as I stared into the face of my Skyrim character Ma'Ra. Best Khajiit thief in all Skyrim.

Town was so far away me and Conor practically lived all week. During school months we only wrangled on Monday morning and the weekends. We'd managed to get enough money scraped together to rent an apartment. Last year we'd also managed to find an old Xbox 360 in one of dad's old boxes. He told us he used to be a big gamer, and that since he was never gonna use it we could have it. After scrounging in couches, under porches, and some intense vacuuming of the vents we went to Gamestop. We couldn't decide what we wanted so after asking the clerk what was was good.

Flashback

Conor and I walked up to the counter.

"Can I help you guys with something?" The clerk asked. He seemed to be an older guy.

"Um yeah actually we can't decide what we want and . . . well we were wondering what was good." Conor finally spoke up.

"Are you guys experienced gamers or new too gaming?" The clerk asked analyzing us.

"We've never actually played a video game." Conor said rubbing his neck embarrassedly.

"Don't worry I think I have a few ideas." The clerk laughed at Conor's embarrassment. After posing a few more questions he paused and rubbed his chin.

"Do you mind violence?"

"Nope." We said at the same time. A spark appeared in his eye.

"Excuse me just one moment," and he walked into the back of the store. He came back a few minutes later holding a dusty game case. From below the counter he pulled a Kleenex out and started wiping down the the game. When he put it down we leaned forward and read The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

We loved it. We couldn't play together which sucked, but we enjoyed watching each other. Important decisions were only made after much discussion. I went with a Khajiit thief because I didn't favor open combat while Conor was the opposite he preferred a sword and shield though he never joined the companions.

End Flashback

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo. This cannot be possible. This cannot be possible. I looked at my hands again staring at them as if I could make it all go away with intense staring, but it didn't. Ooooooookay Oooooooookay … if this is my new reality I can cope with it… I think. I took a few shaky breaths until I was a little calmer then set to examining the weird gear I was wearing. If I was Ma'Ra that meant I was wearing my Thieves Guild master armor. That should mean I pulled up my hood and looked around leaning against a tree was a pack. I guess it's my pack now. I walked over to it and opened it.

Inside I found my pair of dwarven daggers (that I'd carried since the beginning of the Thieves Guild missions), my pair of ebony swords, my ebony bow plus eighty ebony arrows, I was already wearing my armor and amulet of articulation (I wonder if that'll work in this world), a plain gold ring on my hand, orcish gauntlets, two potions of healing, one of stamina, two of invisibility, some food, the Ahziir Traajijazeri, some gemstones, two torches, and about twenty lock picks (cause duh I'm a thief).

I took out my daggers and slipped them into either of my boots. I contemplated putting on my swords but until I figured out where I was I would keep them hidden. Best not to scare the locals . . . whoever they are. I did however strap my bow and arrows to the side of my pack within easy reach as I'd trained this character (which is now me huh … wonder if this will result in some sort of weird identity crisis ehh probably not) in archery as well as one handed.

Considering I have no idea where I am I was able to hit the road really fast. When I stepped onto it I immediately looked both ways not for cars mind you but some instinct took over and I looked for bandits or anyone who might attack me. Skyrim habits die hard I guess. By this time the sun had risen enough and I figured out that to my left was South and my right was North. I decided to take the Southern route again Skyrim habit that South means Riften.

It had been a little before noon and now the sun was going down behind a line of distant hills. I walked off the road a ways and dropped my pack. Despite being a buffed Khajiit thief this was a new body I hadn't adjusted to or vice versa whatever. I sat down and took out a lone salmon steak and one of the four bottles of nord mead that were in my pack. I ate the steak in silence and drank the mead with Ma'Ra's memories floating at the back of my mind. Strange to have memories that you were a part of but not the person in questions.

I got up, shouldered my pack and walked back towards the road. I thought I would continue my journey until it got dark. I just kept walking until I got too tired to keep going. I thought the very last rays of the sun were keeping the road lit just enough to see but the moon had risen in the East and was sending out its silver rays. So much for having that plan while I am now a Khajiit who can see better at night than day (Really gonna have to remember this in future). After slipping off the road again I found myself a nice tall tree. After clambering up I crawled into a comfortable nook with my pack as a back rest. I watched the moon rise higher for a little while then drifted into a restful if not totally comfortable sleep.

When I woke up there was a faint glow in the East and the moon was just setting. I yawned, stretching my arms in the process. I dug through my pack till I found a loaf of bread and another bottle of mead. I got up and continued walking down the road. I walked for about an hour before I hit a crossroads. This new road was running East to West. Smoke was rising from the East so naturally my curiosity was piqued. Hopefully curiosity does not kill the cat.

Before too long I could see a walled town. It wasn't heavily fortified or guarded but until I knew where I was I would play it safe and not make anyone mad….. yet. I watched the town for a while and the people going about their business. Well I'd better hide my body from view. My armor does that pretty well and my hood will keep my face hidden but my hands will be harder. I thought for a moment then dug out my orcish gauntlets and slipped them on. Perfect . . . almost. After a few minutes and some complaining (about stupid orcs and their craftsmanship) to myself I arrived at the gate. Well time to find out where in the hell I am. I banged on the gate.