» Thu Dec 15, 2011 5:57 am
Here's an example. At the very beginning, I'm being lead to my execution... What did I do wrong??
Here's what I come up with. My character is originally from Bruma, (for those who are new to TES games, Bruma is a city in Cyrodiil thats heavilly populated by Nords) son of a blacksmith, my family were murdered by a Thalmor agent, I knew it was the Thalmor because alongside my familiy's corpses were the bodies of five Altmer in elven armour, my family died fighting, I found the body of my 12 year old brother still clutching a sword with Elf blood on it, they died fighting, like Nords! I mourn them for their unjust deaths, but I crave revenge, because the Elven bastard that killed them killed them with magic. A witness said he saw an Altmer mage leave my family home in a hurry and head North, towards Skyrim. So I give chase on my horse, and I catch up to him, he's fighting a group of Goblins after a failed ambush. I draw my sword 'Elf bastard! You will pay for the deaths of my kin with your blood!!' I roar, I charge, he uses his magic to launch globes of fire at me. I dodge the first, but the second hits me in the shoulder, the searing pain is unbearable, but the burning is nothing compared to the fire of my rage as my strength and resolve keep me moving, he draws a dagger, I get within range and lunge at him, he tries to parry the first blow with his elven pig sticker, the strength of my arm and sword shatter his pretty weapon's blade, I grab him around the throat and throw my forhead int his face, his beak shatters under my skull, with my foot I kick down at his thigh, his leg snaps in two, he howls like a serving wench and falls to the floor, I look down at him, and speak.
'Hear me, Elf scum! My family who you murdered are now in Sovengarde sharing mead with Ysgramor, my young brother, is there now telling the great warriors how he slay one of your weak kind and laughing about it. But know this, where I am sending you. There will be no laughter, no honour and no celebration. In the name of Talos, I sentance you to death, may you rot under Talos' boot'
I raise my sword and bring it down on the nape of his neck, it cut's through like a hot blade through snow...
I look up at the sky, I know my family await me in Sovengarde, I smile, then all goes black.
I awake, my head searing with pain. I'm on a horse drawn cart being escorted by Imperial soldiers, I sit with other nords, and I hear stories of the Stormcloaks... I await my fate, wondering what is to become of Danric, under-patron of the great clan Thunder-Forged