» Thu Mar 11, 2010 12:51 pm
A blizzard howls as you clutch your rags, one of several slaves in the rickety wagon cage. In the corner across from you, children huddle together for warmth.
You peer through the wooden bars. Weeks ago you could have broken them, but now your strength is spent. The pack dogs pant, surging onward with another crack of the whip.
One of the barbarian slavers is eyeing the young bosmer girl beside you in the cage. She couldn't be more than twelve. He's looking hard. Then the horn sounds.
The warriors descend swiftly upon the unsuspecting barbarians, but are they really here to free you, or just another band of raiders? Blood sprays as one of the slavers crashes into the side of the cage, his body slumping down. If you're quick, you reach for the key ring at his side....
....otherwise you wait. The battle is over in moments. One of the nord warriors walks up to the cage. There's a strange crest on his briast plate. It looks faintly familar. His raises his axe. The lock bursts off the door with a clang.
The tattoo on your arm - the one you've had since childhood, but never understood - He knows what it means. Your father had the same tattoo....