The Hungry Orc
Master of the Pyre
This is based off my soon-to-be Dawnguard character, Hjolmund Sun-Born. This story is chronicling his travels up to the events of Helgen. I'll do another fanfic once this is done about my Vampire character. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
4E 200/5th Rain's Hand/Forests near Riverwood/1:02 PM
A deer casually pawed at the moist dirt from yesterday's rain. Hjolmund had to stay within the walls of Whiterun that day, which disappointed him: no fresh stock for his meat shop meant no business, and no business meant no coin. Today, however, the skies were relatively clear. The deer looked up for a moment, and Hjolmund stopped his advance. After a moment, the animal looked back down at the grass, and that was when he sent an arrow flying. It landed in the deer's neck, instantly killing it so it wouldn't provide a chase for the hunter. Hjolmund went over and plucked the arrow out of the deer's neck, then cut a nice chunk of venison from its body. He decided that he would hunt for about another 30 minutes, then head back down to Whiterun.
After those minutes had passed, Hjolmund decided to make a stop in Riverwood to fill his belly, as looking at meat for so long has an effect on you. The clanging of steel from Alvor's forge greeted him as he passed through the gate, and that pompous bard-what was his name again? Olven? Sven? Regardless, he was trying to woo a female stranger to Riverwood. Hjolmund almost instantly could tell that the woman was an Imperial, and decided to not get involved as she seemed like she could take care of it herself. Curiosity got the best of the Nord hunter, however, and he decided to eavesdrop.
"I'm telling you, Sven, I'm not interested. You can promise whatever in Mara's name you please, but you still won't convince me." Yes, that's right. His name was Sven. Hjolmund had guessed almost correctly.
"Come now, Salia, you've traveled here all the way from Cyrodiil! You need some comfort." Hjolmund could tell where this was going, and decided to intervene.
"I do not know who you are, friend, but I advise you leave this woman alone. She's made it clear she doesn't want what you have to offer." The Imperial, whose name was apparently Salia, blushed. Sven countered this quickly. "And who are YOU to interfere in my relationship affairs? For all I care, you should mind your own business, filth." Sven gave the hunter a shove, who responded with a push of his own. "Do you really want to do this, bard? Over something as petty as this?" Sven didn't answer, but launched an aggresive right hook as a substitute.
Hjolmund's muscles were literally twice the size of Sven's, so the fight was over and done with pretty quickly. Once Sven went off on his own merry way, Salia stopped Hjolmund from leaving as well. "Thanks. That idiot was digging himself a pretty big hole." The Nord hunter just nodded and shoved off. Zenithar's mercy, please don't let me run into that woman again. The truth was, Hjolmund was getting a little red in the face as well.
4E 200/5th Rain's Hand/Hjolmund's Market Stall/8:24 PM
"Thank you for your patronage, sir. Good hunting." Hjolmund's last customer, a Redguard, walked away with a box of meats for his family smiling. As the Nord cleared his displays as a precaution for night thieves, another Nord in a cloth cowl walked up to him. "Excuse me, but are you Hjolmund Sun-Born?" The hunter stopped and turned around to face the man cautiously. "Yes...who is asking?" The man fiddled around his knapsack, then pulled something out. "I have two letters, actually. One from a lady in Riverwood, and the other I didn't catch. Just a man that came up, told me to give the note to you, then left." Hjolmund took the two documents, feeling more relaxed knowing now that he was a courier. "Thank you, friend. Have a good night." The Nord nodded, a half-smile on his face, then walked back to the stables outside.
In his house, Hjolmund opened the letter from the supposed stranger.
Hjolmund Sun-Born,
Due to a recommendation from a trusted ally, you have earned a membership in the Imperial Army. She has notified us of your strong fighting skills, and we look forward to having you as an addition in the Imperial ranks.
Cordially,
Legate Inarvin Sedaves
Head of Recruitment
Hjolmund held the parchment for a few more seconds in utter disbelief and anger. That...cursed...harpy. He dropped the letter then read the one from Salia.
Hjolmund,
If you're wondering how I know your name, I picked it up from Alvor back in Riverwood, since he's a good friend of yours. He told me that you reminded him a lot of his son Hadvar, a new Legionnaire that just joined a week ago. I thought that you'd be a good fit since you took down that annoying bard Sven for me earlier, so I went ahead and recommended you to Legate Sedaves. He's a good friend of mine, and even though he's a Dark Elf, you can trust him.
Sincerely,
Salia Relius
Once Hjolmund finished ripping the letter into shreds, he planned out what he was going to do the next day. I will ride for Solitude and inform the Legate that I have no place in the Legion. Salia recommended me without my consent, and she'll pay for that. He went to sleep content with his decision to ride for Solitude in the morning.
