The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Samuel Strongsword, a thief from Cyrodiil, crosses the border into Skyrim, a snowy province filled with magic, dungeons, and dangerous beasts.

While there, he discovers he is the Dragonborn, a hero with the body of a mortal, and the soul of a dragon. He must harness their ancient magic of shouts to defeat Alduin, the Dragon God, the World Eater.

NOTE: Not original, based off of the fifth title in the Elder Scrolls video game series.


1. Prolouge

I finally broke through the bottom grate in my cell with the one lock pick the guards didn't find on me. I jumped down into the open grate, and into the sewer of the Capitol of Cyrodiil. I brushed my stringy black hair out of my eyes and ran down the dark tunnel, toward the light I saw at the end. There was a central city grate and I opened it. Hopefully the man I bribed before my arrest had remembered. I peered at him through the grate and he nodded.

He walked over to the edge of the city and cried out: "Everyone, over here, I have some important news to share! You too, guards!"

While everyone was distracted I climbed out of the sewer and made a mad dash for the exit. The portcullis was still open, thank Talos, and I ran through.

"And that's all!" I heard my accomplice shout. 

I ran and ran faster than I ever had before, searching for the border. Cryodiil was nice and all, but I wasn't wanted for petty thievery in Skyrim. I finally made it to the border, and guards at a watchpost were looking for illegal immigrants.

"Damn..." I muttered.

Suddenly, a group of Skyrim "Nords", as they were called, on horseback burst out on the Skyrim side of the border. Seizing the chance, I ran across the border while the guards were distracted. As I got closer to the Nords, I noticed they were wearing silver and blue tunics. They were Stormcloaks. Imperial soldiers ran over, and a battle ensued. Another man, wearing prison garb like me, was riding on a horse, hoping to cross the border. An Imperial hit him with the butt of his blade and he fell off the horse. Two prison carts, enough to hold five men each, including the driver, rolled in to take survivors. One hit me in the head and I blacked out.

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