» Fri Sep 30, 2011 4:59 pm ___________________________________________________
Barnok was an Orc raised in Orsinium; he was forced to live a hard life under the pressure of hard economic times and a harsh widowed father who blamed his son for the death of his wife. Upon his birth he twisted and tore his way to the hot air of a land he would eventually abandon; all of this caused his mage-raised mother to joyfully bleed to death. In the moments leading to her death she spoke softly into his ear "Dovahkiin" a word that meant nothing to the babe but would never leave his soul. Without much education he spent much of his early life working the land, doing hard labor, and other things that never filled his heart with pride. Throughout this part of life, whenever he looked to the sky to the East, in the direction of Skyrim, he felt a small voice calling him. "Dovakiin." As time went on it became more and more difficult to look away. The light whisper that he once heard, a word implanted by his dying mother, was now growing into a shout. He knew that, although a poor Orc living under the thumb of the Redgaurds and the Empire, he was meant for something much larger. One day while working a mine on the outskirts of Wayrest he was caught daydreaming by his Imperial supervisor (while gazing at the eastern Mountains) who promptly hit him on the back of the head and shouted "Back to work cur!" At that moment the word "Dovahkiin" was no longer heard in his mind but was screaming in his soul. Without a thought he turned and drove his fist into the chest of his Imperial supervisor snapping his spine. Within that fleeting moment he saw the severity of what he did and grabbed all he could and headed to the mountains he spent day and night starring at. He trekked day and night without rest, his muscles never tired and his stomach never hungered as something was driving him on. Five days later he passed into Skyrim. After all these years something felt so complete within him as if a pack of bricks was removed from his shoulders and newness of spirit fresher than a first kiss. He was finally home. He savored this moment and allowed the cool mountain air to fill his lungs. Within a period of time unknown to him he caught sight of a number of horses galloping towards him. As they came closer a net appeared and was swung over his head. He thrashed and fought battering and killing some of the Nords that captured him. Mighty in strength and enraged with his dragon spirit was he but even that was not enough to break free of his attackers. Defeated and expired he laid on the ground in his net and was drug to the nearest town. He was beat, spit on and cursed for being a trespasser and a murder as apparently the news (and a bounty) of his killing in anger was sent around the region. Within a short while he was bound and shackled to face his sentencing on a date to be determined and this is the beginning of Barnok's tale. The Dovahkiin!
