This miniseries revolves around the orc, Marzuum Gro-Narzul an OC. As Marzuum finds himself repeatedly drawn into adventures and misadventures all around Skyrim, he will meet some of Skyrim's most beautiful and powerful women and fight some of it's deadliest warriors. After he leaving his home to establish his own stronghold, will he find the huntswife, forgewife, hearthwife, and shieldwife that he needs to build the strongest orc stronghold in Skyrim? Some characters may be OCs, but most should be familiar. Some minor liberties are taken with established lore. Rated M for blood, gore, language and explicit sexual situations.
Chapter 1: An Ordinary Day
Marzuum rolled over in his small pile of furs, and opened his eyes, squinting as the sun rose high enough in the sky to wake him. As had become his custom, he had slept in the the large stone alcove that lay on the western portion of Bonestrewn Crest. The curved stone wall not only provided protection from prying eyes, but from the elements, making it the ideal place for him to sleep. Marzuum knew that while he slept there, at least his back was always protected were he ever attacked in the night.
He rolled over to face the stone wall, seeking a respite from the sun's rays. Not for the first time, he looked at the wall with ancient runes and wondered what was inscribed there. When he once more accepted that he would never know the answer, he roused himself, ready to begin the day. Once he'd pulled on his fur armor, he walked over to the edge of Bonestrewn Crest, and stood next to a massive mammoth skull to gaze out over the land before him.
For six months, he'd called the Crest his home, and in many ways, it made for the perfect home for one who had no need of small comforts. The Crest sat almost directly in the center of Eastmarch, and though the land surrounding him was not ideal for farming, there was no end to the game that could be found there. Marzuum had seen everything from foxes to hares, sabre cats, to cave bears. There was no short supply of food here if one knew how to hunt.
The Crest itself also had a large vein of iron ore that Marzuum had mined for both supplies and trading. With the region less than a day's journey south of Kynesgrove, he could trade with the locals for any supples he needed. True the Stormcloaks were not the friendliest inhabitants in the region, but more often than not they were still willing to trade goods when it benefitted them as well. There was also the Orsimer settlement of Narzulbar that was a couple days journey by foot to the northeast should he find himself in need of refuge.
Directly below him, he could see the skeletal remains of various creatures that had once roamed this area. Some had already been there when he had made the Crest his home. Others he put there himself. He watched as a fox and hare competed against each other in a dance of life and death, distracted momentarily before turning his gaze outward again. Large pools of blue-green water, heated from underground magma, emitted geysers of hot water and steam. He loved bathing in those. The fox caught the hair, and ran off with it to eat in safety.
Not far to his east, he could see smoke rising into the air from the giants' camp. Steamcrag Camp they called it. The idea of hunting the mammoths was always in the back of his mind. One mammoth, and he'd have enough meat to last him several weeks if not a month, but it wasn't worth making enemies of the giants that lived there. At least not when they lived so close to his own home. Marzuum was about to descend from his home before he remembered his weapons. There were very few things he had to fear, even unarmed, but lately and for reasons that weren't quite clear, he'd seen multiple dragons in the region.
He retrieved his war axes, as well as his bow and arrows. All dragonbone made. It had only been by the sheerest of luck that a dragon had attacked him while he had been near the Steamcrag Giant Camp. The giants had mistakenly thought the dragon was after their mammoths and so they attacked when it landed, while Marzuum had fired arrow after arrow from a safe distance into the dangerous beast.
However, as Marzuum had approached its carcass, the creature had disappeared into thin air, leaving only its bones behind, with no way for Marzuum to harvest the meat. Fortunately, there had been enough bone for him to craft a sword, two war axes, a bow, a spear and many arrows. Now armed with his rare weapons, Marzuum descended the Crest to begin his hunt.
When he'd first arrived, he'd scarcely had to descend giant hill to find good game. Now the animals had begun to avoid the immediate area. Marzuum moved south and to the west towards Eldergleam Sanctuary. He didn't have to go far. No sooner had he crested the hill directly to his south than he spotted several elk. Marzuum was standing downwind, and the elk were too busy feeding on the sad vegetation that littered the area to pay him any mind as Marzuum quietly nocked an arrow.
It would have taken a human hunter at least two to three arrows to bring the elk down, but Marzuum was much stronger. He fired the arrow and watched as it tore through the elk's shoulder, coming out of the other side, shaft and all. It fell without a sound.
It took Marzuum about half an hour to haul it back home. By the time he'd gotten back to the crest, the sun was already at its peak. It took him the rest of the day, but by the time the sun was nearly ready to set, Marzuum had carved out several large chunks of meat, and hung and treated the pelt. With the meat done cooking, Marzuum sat on the edge of the Crest to watch the sunset. There was enough meat for a couple days, so without a need to hunt tomorrow, he would make time to take a long bath in the hot springs. As he watched the sun set, Marzuum couldn't help but feel grateful for how simple his life had become.