However I hope that what has turned out to be a mere cure for boredom, will make for a good read.
Obviously critique, is condoned and encouraged, but may I ask that any critique is constructive, rather than rude; I get upset easily. :laugh:
The story i've gone with so far is one that follows the main storyline of TES4 Oblivion. It's been weird as everything I write is from the top of my head, with no planning or thought ahead of typing.
I have actually played the main questline of Oblivion, so obviously I know roughly how this may unfold, but an actual plot will be made up as I go.
This is probably an awful idea, but it's pretty fun - so I apologise in advance for any 'suprises' that may arise unwillingly.
Thanks for reading.
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Chapter One
-~-~-~-Rise & Shine-~-~-~-
An unwelcoming glance was all that Paige was fortunate enough to receive after the common struggle to peel open her eyelids at first light; though on this occasion it had not come from the source she had once grown accustomed to. Passionate brown eyes, something she imagined she could get used to in very little time at all, stared directly at her from merely a few centimetres away. Despite her lack of immediate alertness the evidence that the man bearing down on her was more than rather attractive lifted the spirit of her predicament as best it could, for it was certainly not the most comfortable of situations, let alone the most romantic. She blinked, slowly growing accustom to the light despite the real lack of such a luxury, and began to survey the man in front of her, he was unlike any she had experienced in her time on earth; the dark eyes, the chiselled cheekbones, the array of stubble that covered the bottom half of his immaculate jawbone; but her awe was short lived as the daunting eye-candy pulled his gaze from hers and began to stand.
“Rise and shine” he exclaimed with a swift wink as he pushed himself up from his knee, now tender as it had been rested against the cold stone floor for a significant period of time. It had not taken long to notice Paige’s increasing interest in his physical attributes, and the idea of toying with her was immediately on his agenda for the morning, despite his busy schedule. “I’ve left your breakfast on the table, but I hope you’re not expecting too much, cooks are an expensive resource now-days, and even you must know of how penniless the kingdom is of late.” Paige found it easy to ignore the harshness of the underlying insult, perhaps due to the detail that she was still focussed on the manner in which the young man spoke his words rather than the content or context of which they were actually used. She wasn’t exactly sure whether the man was appealing for a response, but she imagined that she wouldn’t be able to conjure more than a muddled dribble of words even if she were to think of replying. The young guard continued debriefing Paige on the lack of cooks and tasteful breakfast despite her absence of interest, before he began to wonder whether she was under some kind of enchantment which would’ve make her so lifeless, or consider that she was in any-sense mentally-challenged.
“I suppose I should leave you too it then, we don’t want it going cold now. Do we?” The guard wrapped up swiftly what was a completely one-sided conversation after a great wave of awkwardness filled the room; he wondered whether the young girl sat in front of him would ever speak again after his presence. He turned and left without looking back, walking more swiftly down the torch lit corridor than he ever had before, leaving Paige to her own pondering and porridge. The rumbling demands of her stomach were the next thing to enter the room, a thick groaning sound came from beneath the cloth shirt that itched and irritated her torso, filling the grey stone chamber and bouncing impatiently from wall to wall.
“Alright, alright”, Paige responded to her own anatomy, something she would often do in her own company, and embarrassingly in the company of others, regardless of prestige or rank. She pulled herself up from the tiny bedroll, which had kindly left but an inch between her and the rough stone floor that she reluctantly lay on, heaving what seemed her monstrous mass of body weight from its grasp. The porridge, as expected, was just as unappealing as both the stone floor that Paige sat upon and the sight ofPaige herself, the brown, lump-ridden slush looked more like wet concrete than an appetizing meal, but the demands of her stomach soon conquered her willpower, with another roar which once again shook Paige’s limp body.
Isabelle Paige Courtessèu on a good day was certainly not an ugly sight to behold; pale skin, pure, and tender to touch, with flush scarlet lips contrasting against the back drop of her snowy flesh, tresses of silky black hair would flow almost halfway down her back, radiating any light that would happen to reach its surface, her fringe, when left to its own accord, often would fall down diagonally in front of her right eye, a nuisance to Paige who spends what seems a life-time banolly flicking it from her vision. Her deep-set crimson eyes, verging on a midnight black are an endless void and seem on appearance to gaze into the very depths of every soul they meet, shaded ever more by a surrounding of eye-shadow. Her button nose is only short, yet simple, with an elegant shape and a round tip and her face is gaunt, yet not thin though her cheeks are concave and defined, going against the stereotypical Breton shape.
“You’re nothing but a stuck up harlet, with cheap parlour tricks.”
A small voice echoed from the opposite cell, though out of plain ignorance Paige chose to ignore it and continue to force lumps of porridge into her gradually calming belly.
“Let's see you make those bars disappear.”
The voice continued, still trying for a Paige’s attention, it was an old voice, one that Paige assumed would belong to a Mer of some sort, though which she could not yet tell.
“You're not leaving this prison 'til they throw your body in the lake. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here.”
The final sentence was the last straw, and Paige could no longer resist the urge to confront her antagonist.
“Would you mind staying quiet” she asked with an irritatingly calm and friendly tone, “I’m not quite finished eating and I would rather enjoy my delicious meal in peace.”
She finished the sarcastically toned sentence upon noting that the voice belonged to an ageing Dunmer, of a silver-blue skin colour, with the light of a nearby torch allowingPaige to notice his white wavy mane; before she turned back to her breakfast and pretended to eat the rest. The Dunmer, annoyed at Paige’s phoney politeness mumbled back quietly, a suggestion that Paige would in fact, rot and die in the prison. However perhaps due to the muffled manner in which these words were spoken, or the concept that Paige could not bring herself to comprehend this idea at all meant that the fellow prisoner’s threats went unnoticed.
Paige placed the bowl back down onto the small wooden table provided, unconcerned that she had left half of what she was gifted, and sat back against the wall to finally ponder in detail, the unfortunate situation she found herself in, and to reflect on the actions that had led up to such ‘ridiculous’ consequences. Unfortunately, Paige was not allowed such thinking time, and footsteps gradually approached the iron bars that restricted the young Breton from the outside world. Voices soon followed, though they were not of the Dunmer who now lay resting at the bottom of his own cell, seemingly ignorant of what was occurring in surrounding cells, instead Paige caught the accent that belonged to what seemed to be another female Breton, much like herself.
“What’s this prisoner doing here, this cell is supposed to be off-limits.”