» Mon Nov 22, 2010 8:19 pm
Assuming that there is a civil war going on between those supporting the Empire, and those against it, I was a member of a small guerilla force fighting against Imperial Soldiers from a hidden base somewhere in the forest. We were considered heroes at the local towns, and to make a statement, they hunted us down. They caught us and executed the rest, I am the last, and am waiting for my execution. However, one of the guards, a secret member of the Blades, noticed a tatoo on my left wrist, written in the tongue of the dragons. I didn't know what it was, for I had had it since I was a child, before my village was burned down in a forest fire. The handful of survivors suspected the Empire was involved, because the village had long opposed their rule, but in reality it was caused by dragons seeking to kill the last of the Dovahkiin, my parents and me, but I was able to escape. I now grudgingly agreed to the Blade's request, biding my time, waiting to escape and seek revenge on my captors, but I did not know of the fate that would await me.