CHAPTER ONE

Welcome to Tales of Death and Dungeons! All credit goes to the creators of Skyrim. Enjoy :)

I am a myth.

I am nothing but a fairytale.

When I walk by, remember this if only it is the last thing you think of.

You never cross the same person twice.

Fool me once, never again.

I've learned over time that the people are arrogant and upstanding all at once. I've killed many, many creatures and among those, people, in my adventures across this wretched land. Skyrim, they call it. In summary, it is a land of ridged mountains, lush green trees, killer bees, glowing mushrooms, and many other creatures that roam free of the hands of god, like Ulfric Stormcloak.

I've learned many lessons growing up in this world.

You see, I was never taught what was right from wrong, but I learned. I learned something new everyday out here on my own. Nothing stays constant, not even feelings. Even trust is something I'm naturally unaccustomed to. I'd rather slit an innocent man's throat then find out what awaits me on the other side of vulnerability.

Nothing is ever good enough, no one will ever be satisfied. This world brings treachery, your eyes can fool you better than anything. The people closest to you can turn on you in an instant if it has to do with gold, jewels, or intercourse. Maybe even a spot next to the Jarl of a major hold.

So now, I sit near the side of my bed—which was basically a goat's skin laid over the ground. I was sitting on the freezing, solid, metal floor of a cell that was held within a small cave, a dagger in hand. I sharpened away the stubborn edge as I strained my forearm, not stopping. The reflection of the small and vibrant waterfall lit up the ceiling with a gloomy shine as it glimmered across the rocks of the cave and against my skin.

I've been sharpening this thing for what felt like hours, subconsciously repeating my actions—thinking. Even the slightest sound would cause my ears to perk up on high alert, this cave was steep but not solid. It almost seems hollow, fragile.

My blade isn't sharp enough, I tell myself.

So I keep on.

I don't even trust myself, if I did, I'd be halfway across Tamriel stumbling upon another journey just waiting for me—following my own instincts. Learning to go with my gut and not words, words that are passed around like blades.

I stay in hiding.

Why?

I'm not afraid of being social, neither am I ignorant of what's waiting for me if I show myself in Mourning Star's daylight.

I'm just a coward, a miserable sheep among the wolves. Sure, I've killed gods in my time but the biggest thing I'm afraid of is ripping the bars off this cage and leaving through that sliver of rocks, meeting the outside broad daylight.

I'm afraid of everyone's opinions then, isn't that right? The almighty half-blood of Skyrim is self conscious!—

"Get up trash, time to eat."

I slowly lifted my head, my eyes meeting the rather worn boots of my enemy. He waved a piece of bread in front of me. As I reached for it, he laughs and takes a bite, taking a step back from my cage.

"Nuh uh, haha." He laughs with a sinister smile.

I often not let my emotions get the best of me, but this guy had it coming. Without hesitation, I leaned toward him. My hands gripped the icy steel bars before I growled at him. I shook the cage and it hobbled off the ground, bouncing a little.

The man took another step back as I had my raging fit. Then he paused, dropped the bread onto the ground and slowly took a step forward towards my cage.

"What? Angry? Well you can't leave. The Dragonborn leaves his people for almost three years without a word? People will hate you. People will want you dead for leaving them behind. People will stop chanting your name across this place and only whisper tales of what is now a myth," he took a moment to catch his ale infested breath.

"You."

That word hit me. I averted my gaze from him. He begin to laugh once more. Then he slowly turned around and as he left, he spoke two words. "So long."

I am a myth now.

People don't remember who I am, children get books read to them about me. The eldest may know me.

I drop the dagger in hand and sit up, looking around for what has been my prison for three years. No one could find me, the only trace of me that was left behind was my home near Morthal. Unfortunately, I made extra precautions before I left so no one I had cared about followed me.

Yet, the night I left, I was knocked out. I woke up chained to the bottom of a carriage with a rag in my mouth. They brought me here, and ever since then, I have been their toy. Every month they bring in someone or something big. Something they think will kill me.

The only time I get daylight is that day. They drop me in the middle of this colosseum like arena. They test me. They test my patience.

What they want me to do is execute my words of thu'um. Bastards.

I could go for a good fresh pie right about now. I have been living off of bread and variations of game. I can't even find a damn apple anywhere.

I look down to my side, my dagger there.

It was ebony, a tough little sliver of night. Each time I look at it I can hear the screams of its victims, causing me to shudder. It haunted me everywhere I went, if I didn't take it with me the voices got louder and louder until I could hear no more.

The first few months I was here, they took it from me.

The thing is, it was my fathers. He took it everywhere with him, I just couldn't leave it behind. Neither could I destroy it, physically I couldn't even burn the damn thing. It was a curse on my family. But enough about that.

When I was away from it, my body hurt. I always screamed in agony, I cried every night because it was far from me. I don't know why, but it happens every time. It got so bad that my capturers gave it back.

Even they said there was something off about it. Something…sinister.

I grabbed it and examined the beautiful design on its handle.

A WEEK LATER.

Another day, I sat here in my pain and darkness. I carefully watched water drip from the cavern and into my cage.

Tip tap.

My focus was interrupted when I heard footsteps on their way.

"Hey freak, get up. You're going in the pit now." The man spoke, his words laced with poison. I didn't budge, I just stared at him.

"Did you hear what I said you little bastard? Get up, now." He shouted, advancing toward the cell. I stood up quickly and grabbed him by his collar, his face hit the cell harshly.

"Agh! Damn you!" He shouted in pain, managing to take his leather vest off and release himself from my grasp. I'm getting rusty.

And yes, I could use my thu'um. But it had it's risks. I am used to coughing up blood. After what happened, I never want to use my voice again. I only use it in desperation. A crutch if you will.

Suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, dipping his hands inside and throwing drops of it into my face. It burned and sizzled, I couldn't see for a good minute. I bent down and held my head in my hands, groaning in pain.

Behind me I could hear the cage open and the man leave.

About 20 minutes later, I met the outside.

I could feel the bright sun start to embrace my skin. Meeting the sun like this for the first time in forever is always nice. My eyes were still recovering from the poison but it's alright. Better than nothing, I guess.

I wish this felt like the old days, where the sun would wrap me up in it's warmth. I can't even feel anything anymore. I gazed up at the sun with squinted eyes, closing my eye lids and trying to feel the warmth but only for a moment.

I continued on.

My ears were filled with cheers and crowds that echoed excitement. I had arrived in the arena. A man shouted, getting the attention of everyone as their eyes flickered back and forth from me to him. They spoke in some strange language I could never understand.

"Let's have some fun." I said, my exit closed behind me.

In front of me was just a pit of sand, a wide one. The blazing heat was already causing me to sweat. On the other side of the arena was a giant door. It was huge, although, normally it would just be a wave of vampires, trolls, bandits, anything I could usually take or woah the crowd with my thu'um.

As I waited for the opponents arrival, the doors opened slowly. The crowd went silent, people whispering doubts in concerned tones. I looked around and met eyes with a little girl, she looked as if she could make a soup sandwich out of me.

As the giant doors opened, a chill went down my spine.

No way.

This could not get any better.

They had captured a dragon. Its scales were a deep and shiny orange, and flourishing, a healthy dragon in fact. It's eyes burned of amber fire, steaming at the situation already. It's mouth was chained shut and held down by what appeared to be concrete pillars.

It's not being held down, it's pretending to be. I know for a fact that this dragon was strong. I could feel his thu'um echoing into my soul from here mixed with the crowd cheering and chanting, "Dovahkiin!"

This is gonna get good.