Wolves

Sorbithor wandered along the dusty road. Patches of wet mud littered the path, with the occasional dead branch and rubble forming an obstacle. After talking to The smith, Alvor, who gifted him some leather armour and a few gold septum’s, Sorbithor had headed off for Whiterun to talk to Jarl Balgruuf, intent on delivering the news that Riverwood and Whiterun was under threat from a dragon. The darkness of the land was consuming, as groups of bandits and raiders were now common appearance along these roads. He wandered on, as the plank wooden roofs of Riverwood faded into the distance. The trickling water alongside him served as a calming sound contrasted to the roars of the dragon before, and the screams of the guards who had threatened his life. Alvor had been kind enough to give him some food as well, and so he owed thanks to the people of Riverwood, thus his mission to get to Whiterun. But the sun was setting and there was no inn nearby, apart from a small cave carved into the side of the cliff. And so after rolling out a bed spread and some wood for a fire, Sorbithor placed his knife under the roll and began to sleep. But he was being watched by a pair of yellow canine eyes.

The low pitched growling. It woke Sorbithor. He slowly opened one eye, turning over while looking out at the cave entrance. He felt around for the knife, gripping his warm large hands around the cold hard metal hilt. There it was, a group of 3 wolves. Their eyes, yellow and sharp, they were slow lying creeping up on him, sharp blackened teeth dripping beads of saliva as he slept. Warm breath was pushing on his face, as he slowly sat upright, calmly keeping his eyes on the wolves. Then they lunged. The largest wolf, with its matted fur, bit at Sorb. But before the wolf could get him, Sorbithor released a swing from the side, smacking the wolf’s head with his fist, wrapped in leather cloth. It snarled, and whined as it got flown into the side of the cave, sending it’s ‘friends’ on the attack. They lunged, getting swatted off by the strong Wood elf. Sorbithor muscular shoulders tensing as he sliced at the dogs, keeping them at bay. The first dog was back on its feet now, but its eyes had become bloodied and desperate. It jumped, fangs bared, dripping in its own blood. Sorbithor sliced at it, cutting it right in the mouth, cutting the muscles holding its jaw in place. The Dog went limp, whimpering as it hit the ground. The others alarmed, turnt on their heels and took off, leaving the alpha for dead. The alpha got up, blood drained from its face, and limped off. Sorbithor felt the weight of his hands drag them down, sheathing the knife and beginning to pack up camp. First light, and he would move out.

Town

The small town was bustling at this time of day. The sun was high in the sky and the heat scorched Sorbithor. He knew if he wanted to survive the night, he would want a room at the inn. However Sorbithor was from far away, in a place over the mountains. He could remember that, but nothing else as of now. Everything, even the recent events were fuzzy and blurry. He saw an iron-smith working his little forge, and went up to him to ask for directions, needing to find a place to relax and also alert about a dragon in the area. He approached the smith.

“What do you need son?” said the smith, standing up from the forge, hot iron in hand. His body was sweating profusely, beads of sweat hissing as they hit the hot iron and evaporated.

Sorbithor started explaining the attack, and how he managed to get out of the keep.

“You need to go to Jarl Balgruuf,” replied the smith. “He needs to send troops, as a dragon would wipe Riverwood off the plane.”, “I think it would be better if you didn’t hang around here.” he continued, “As after escaping the imperials may catch you and attack you for abandoning their men. I can offer you some spare gold and weapons to help you get there, so take your pick Sir and may Talos see your way be safe.”

Keep

Sorbithor started to roll. He just threw himself in the general direction of the nearest wall, rolling as fast as he could. The guards were scrambled, he saw, as they flurried to get weapons for defending the keep. The large writhing mass of wings and scales flung itself around the towers, sending large fragments of stone and wood onto the prisoners below. On all fours, Sorbithor managed to crawl at a mincing gate into the nearby tower, as he darted his eyes across the table tops for something to set him free.one of the imperial guards ran in, before chucking some keys to him. “Get unlocked and get out of here!” the guard shouted, and then chucking a small iron dagger down beside him. Sorbithor slid the keys into the cuffs, unlocking the cold metal from around his wrists. He cast the cuffs to the side, before picking up the dagger. He began searching the table drawers in the broken tower for some proper clothes and armour. He quickly found a tunic and chain-mail suit, pulling o some leather pants too, and peering outside to look for an escape route. He didn’t have any loyalty to the ones who captured him, and thus was set in leaving them to their demise. But at the same time he didn’t hate them, as they had indeed shown sympathy. He quickly darted outside, sneaking around the side of the building and along to a section of wall that had been knocked over by the dragon. He scaled the rubble, quickly using his lower body to push himself over the barriers and using the rubble on the other side to get down. With a breaking sprint, Sorbithor jogged past the littered bodies of dead soldiers around him, towards the tree line, feeling no remorse for their entailed end.

Dawn

They were all lined up. All those dark figures, all lined up and shackled in a line with no idea what was to come. At the crack of dawn guards had woken the mall up, as the dim light had peered into the cell illuminating the wet floor. In puddles of urine and water in those cells, Sorbithor could see the deep cuts and gouges across his face, resulting from what he thought looked like an intense wrestle with knives. He smiled gently to himself, pleased with the fact for whatever purpose he was taken, he hadn’t come easily. However that smiled disappeared as the guards had taken them into the brightly lit courtyard and began filing people onto chopping blocks. And so the bloodshed began. Imperial lawyers read out the crimes for which these ‘criminals’ had been prosecuted, as he watched these people of varying filth lay their heads on the rough cut stone blocks, and be taken away to Soverngarde. Finally his come, and he was pushed forward. A stern woman dressed fully in protective armor, inscribed with the dragon insignia of the imperial legion, looked at the paper in her hand. “I can’t find his name listed, well just put him down as petty thievery. To the block” she directed him over, where he took his turn kneeling on the block. It was a cold stone slab, with blood splatter all over it. He could smell the past victims all over it, causing his stomach to rumble. A priest quickly blessed him, before the executioner lifted up a large double headed axe. But he lowered it again, before pointing at the sky. The whole crowd turned, shrieking as Sorbithor watched the executioner get tossed by a large flying mass of black scales. A dragon was attacking the keep.

Awaken

Sorbithor lay awake in the dark musty room. Darkness shrouded the figures next to him, and a small iron bar grate across the window released icy wind into the small room. Rancid smells floated off of the cold stone tiles lining the cell. Sorbithor was confused, having been handcuffed and stripped down to the bare cloths covering his bodies’ privates. with little he could do right now, and the chills curdling the small amount of food in his stomach, Sorbithor decided to curl back up and try to get some sleep. He would try to sort out why and where he was he in the morning, assuming he made the night.

Hey guys, M here. After playing an RPG with one character for ages, I decided to write down the stories they had experienced. Give some insight into what happened with them and develop their personality. Anyway thanks.