The Elder Scrolls I : Rise of the Sword-Runners

Arngeirr was crouching close to the forest base as he skulked along the trail, stalking his prey. His manus were dirty, mud and moss clung to his Banded Fe Armour, his prospicient favourable blonde hair hung over his face, damp with sweat.

He sniffed the air and swivelled around on his feet to face north. He had her sent. Quickly but lightly, he sprinted through the forrest towards Riverwood, making fiddling noise he jumped from a fallen log and climbed a tall oak Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree until, halfway up, he rested against a branch. Slowly he drew his beginner Ancient Nordic Bow and readied his brand arrow to strike.

A Stormcloak patrol passed beneath him.

'' Damn you '' he cursed as they moved on and in he distance he saw the heavy deer he had been stalking prancing away towards the lake.

He slid down the tree after sheathing his weapon and walked towards Riverwood. As the good morning wind blew through the tree Arngeirr ran his script through his golden hair and approached Lake Llinalta. As he broke through the Tree personal credit line he breathed deeply inhaling the novel air, it was so different here than it was in the cities, here you could find peace.

As he looked around himself Arngeirr sat down and, bringing his olfactory organ close to the ground he began to sniffle and heed for any wildlife that he might hunt.

He soon caught the scent of a fox and followed it in the direction of Llinatas Deep, as he approach the banking concern he sighed, he hated swimming, he was n't bad at swimming per say, just disliked getting wet, unusual though as he did n't heed getting begrime, sweaty or bloody.

He swam quickly across to the Northern bank to avoid the Slaughter Pisces. Unlike others in Skyrim, the fish would have been their finale concern, as for some reason everyone thought that the lake was cursed, no one in the Sword-Runner class believed in curses, and they were ALL stubbornly brave beyond reckoning.

Arngeirr advanced slowly and quietly for two cause, he did n't require to lose his prey, and just to his left on top of the go under tugboat of Llinatas deep were two bandit predator wielding Orcish Battleaxes. Also just behind them was an Apprentice Necromancer.

As he passed silently by he was blasted forward into the Tree-line by a vast ball of pure White River twinkle, dazed and confused Arngeirr could see the Necromancer yelling and barking orders as three Bandit bowman came up and shot pointer at the sphere of influence as the Necromancer shot ball of fire at it and the two bandit earlier charged at it wielding their Axes in a dim wrath.

As Arngeirr pulled himself from his stupefaction and shock he drew his Sky-forge brand great-sword from his back and charged at the brigand as the vault of heaven began to quail inside taking the let loose variety of a man.

Arngeirr charged as the first bandit, a fellow Nord, turned and charged at Arngeirr clad in shroud armour. He swung his axe at Arngeirr 's heading, Arngeirr ducked, stabbed up into the Nords chest, then spin around drawing the steel from his chest cutting him nearly in two.

Arngeirr stood up straight, his face stained with rakehell, holding his bloodied great-sword in his right paw, his chest panting as he huffed and puffed, watching as the Orc bandit clad in fur armour charged him in rage.

Mimicking the Orc Arngeirr charged and get around his great-sword with all his might. battle-ax and Great-sword clashed in a spark of Orichulum on Steel.

They pressed each early with all their durability, staring into the orcs brutish face as it roared in wrath and continued to press its brand downwards towards Arngeirrs top dog. His strength was failing, the orc was winning with its immense natural physical strength, but Arngeirr was exhilarated by it he loved fighting orcs as they were one of the few races who posed a real threat to him and a real number challenge.

As the axe drew closer to his straits Arngeirr slipped into an unbind rage. He roared out like a cage in Lion, the North Germanic language engagement cry. He pushed up with all his might and sent the orc reeling back onto its arse, its energy now spent as Arngeirr swung his brand down onto its chest, delivering the killing snow, cleaving a gap cakehole in the orcs chest.

Arngeirr spun to see a woodelf crouched on a objet d'art of crumbling rock that once was a strut holding up the tower, weilding an Diospyros ebenum bow ready to burn down her arrow at Arngeirr as a banded iron adorn red-guard wielding two-fold scimitars advanced on Arngeirr and a Leather clad Khajiit assassin flanked him on his right wing as he faced the tower.

Reading himself for combat Arngeirr advanced on the Red-guard and sweep his blade in a across-the-board arc in presence of himself. The Red-guard jumped back at the kickoff swipe then as the moment came he deflected with his scimitar sending Arngeirrs blade away from him and into the air. The Red-guard slashed at Arngeirrs thigh bringing him to his knees as an Arrow sank into his articulatio humeri. The Khajiit stabbed him in his right should also, completely crippling him as Arngeirr felt his life ebbing from him.

Then he felt a swoosh of air as a greenish fuzz flew by him at the Red-guard was thrown back into the towers crumbling walls, an Orcish battle-ax embedded deep in his chest. Arngeirr watched as the woodelf lowered her bow and stared wide eyed at what she saw, veneration engulfing her. Arngeirr simply looked forward at her the whole time as the Necromancer ran forward and tried to parent the cadaver to fight but, the khajiit was sent flying through the air crashing into him, its peg broken. Arngeirr felt a warm hand on his arm pulling him up as the warmth spread through his body, a comforting gentle visible radiation engulfing his injury, healing them.

Then a tall man, of 6ft 5in, dressed in coal black armour, wielding two ebony sword and a nifty blade, with long swept back golden hairsbreadth and a muscular build walked by towards the necromancer and Khajiit. He drove his steel into the necks of his resister then turned to the woodelf.

'' Do you submit ? '' The man asked in a deep, yet soft and comforting voice to which the elf just nodded repeatedly

She was inadequate, 5ft 3in in height with long dim hair tied back in a pony-tail. Her peel was tanned and her y were a inscrutable scintillation K, she was slight of number, clearly pliant and agile.

'' Then go inside, gather all that your bandit friends steal and wreak it out here '' The man ordered as the elf disappeared into the sunken keep

The man walked over to Arngeirr and helped him up

'' Are you alright ? '' The man asked, to which the man nodded in answer

'' What is your name ? ``

'' Arngeirr, and yours ? ''

'' ... Raiden .... ''