blue 468
Well-Known Member
This story will follow very loosely the adventures of my favorite Skyrim character, and will include many things both in the game and things added by me. There may also be chapters with violence or sex but nothing to graphic. This is also my first fanfic so any and all advice or constructive criticism is welcomed. The following prologue is the story of how my character's parents met many years ago, enjoy!!!
Prologue-The Red Ring (4E 175)
“That leg looks bad Aenar.” Jonna said as she waked across her tent to the nearby map of the surrounding countryside. The General was tall and very muscular, but that was to be expected of a Nord. Her Yellow blond hair also helped to put emphasis of her Nordic descent. “Yes it does ma’am, feels just as bad.” Aenar answered, Aenar himself was a tall muscular Nord with Aurburn hair and blue eys. The General grunted in reply her attention now focused on a letter of considerable size and length. Aenar cleared his throat to get Jonna’s attention, “Got something in your throat Legate?”.. ”Um, will that be all general?” Aenar replied as his arrow wound starting to bleed through his bandaging. “Yes, yes you’re dismissed. Thanks for the names” She said moving on to even bigger letters.
Aenar walked through the countless rows of legion tents all perfectly aligned, the smell of horse dung and metal stung his nose the sun beating down on his neck as the wind blew gently through the trees. It was a perfect day…or at least in appearance, as far as Aenar was concerned it was anything but. The past week had been nothing but a grueling march from Skyrim down to the Imperial city, only to face a much larger Aldmeri force. The plan to retake the capital was a stroke of genius to be sure, while the emperor attacked from the north our force of mostly Nords moved in from Cheydinhal. Aenar having just delivered the list of names of all those who had fallen under his command and it had left him in a sour mood but he had more duties to attend to, first though was the healers to get his leg fixed up.
Aenar’s reflecting was cut short as a wagon moved past him spraying water from a puddle in his direction. Wiping of the water from his clothes he limped to the healer’s tent. He was met with an explosion of harsh smells and screams of agony. Priests ran around like chickens with their heads cut off as they tried to deal with the influx of injured and dying. “What do you want? Can’t you see we’re busy?” a voice said from behind Aenar. He turned around surprised, a Breton woman stood in front of him her arms crossed, her dark brown hair tied up in a hasty bun, and blood splattered all over her robes that marked her for a healer. She was short with tanned skin and light brown eyes, she looked Aenar up and down her foot tapping in impatience, “Well? What do you want?”
Aenar snapped out of his daze and answered, “Umm…my leg.” Pointing feebly at his bandaging. She looked down quickly and gestured for him to follow her, the woman lead him down the tent, Aenar’s smile slowly faded as he gazed upon the rows of wounded legionnaires on either side of him. “Sit.” She said in a very stern manner while she pointed at an empty bed at the back of the tent. Complying with her order he asked “So what’s your name if I may ask?” “You MAY ask but that doesn’t mean I’m going to answer.” She replied while beginning to undue the wrappings around his thigh, “So ARE you going to answer me?” he asked grimacing as she pulled out a small piece of metal from his wound “My names Aenar by the way.” “My names Celia, and I know who you are Legate.” Celia said as she started to apply a healing spell to his leg, a faint gold glow emanating from her hands “Most of the soldiers here don’t even care for the Emperor, but they all speak very highly of you. I’ve also heard tales of you fighting fifty Aldmeri soldiers with a flaming sword.” She said with a very sarcastic expression on her face. ”Well, I don’t want to take credit for something I didn’t do so I’ll just come right out and say it…. I didn’t have a sword.” Aenar said smiling as she finished tying up his bandage.
Celia smiled at his comment, “I’m serious though half the troops here won’t stop talking about the famous warrior Aenar Stormblade, and from what I can tell you saved many of those soldiers out there.” Aenar looked up at the ceiling as he started to become uncomfortable, “Well I try, there’s only so much that you can do during a battle like that.” Celia stood up dusting her hands on her clothes, “Any man who can save a life is fine in my book.” Aenar stood up as well, “Even if it means taking even more lives?’ he asked “You know Aenar, nobody can save everyone but if you can save a life by taking another than I think you should and be prepared to answer when it’s time.” She finished as she walked him out of the tent. Aenar glanced up at the sun, the same smells assaulting his nostrils, and Aenar smiled at the thought of putting this whole war behind him and settling down.
Prologue-The Red Ring (4E 175)
“That leg looks bad Aenar.” Jonna said as she waked across her tent to the nearby map of the surrounding countryside. The General was tall and very muscular, but that was to be expected of a Nord. Her Yellow blond hair also helped to put emphasis of her Nordic descent. “Yes it does ma’am, feels just as bad.” Aenar answered, Aenar himself was a tall muscular Nord with Aurburn hair and blue eys. The General grunted in reply her attention now focused on a letter of considerable size and length. Aenar cleared his throat to get Jonna’s attention, “Got something in your throat Legate?”.. ”Um, will that be all general?” Aenar replied as his arrow wound starting to bleed through his bandaging. “Yes, yes you’re dismissed. Thanks for the names” She said moving on to even bigger letters.
Aenar walked through the countless rows of legion tents all perfectly aligned, the smell of horse dung and metal stung his nose the sun beating down on his neck as the wind blew gently through the trees. It was a perfect day…or at least in appearance, as far as Aenar was concerned it was anything but. The past week had been nothing but a grueling march from Skyrim down to the Imperial city, only to face a much larger Aldmeri force. The plan to retake the capital was a stroke of genius to be sure, while the emperor attacked from the north our force of mostly Nords moved in from Cheydinhal. Aenar having just delivered the list of names of all those who had fallen under his command and it had left him in a sour mood but he had more duties to attend to, first though was the healers to get his leg fixed up.
Aenar’s reflecting was cut short as a wagon moved past him spraying water from a puddle in his direction. Wiping of the water from his clothes he limped to the healer’s tent. He was met with an explosion of harsh smells and screams of agony. Priests ran around like chickens with their heads cut off as they tried to deal with the influx of injured and dying. “What do you want? Can’t you see we’re busy?” a voice said from behind Aenar. He turned around surprised, a Breton woman stood in front of him her arms crossed, her dark brown hair tied up in a hasty bun, and blood splattered all over her robes that marked her for a healer. She was short with tanned skin and light brown eyes, she looked Aenar up and down her foot tapping in impatience, “Well? What do you want?”
Aenar snapped out of his daze and answered, “Umm…my leg.” Pointing feebly at his bandaging. She looked down quickly and gestured for him to follow her, the woman lead him down the tent, Aenar’s smile slowly faded as he gazed upon the rows of wounded legionnaires on either side of him. “Sit.” She said in a very stern manner while she pointed at an empty bed at the back of the tent. Complying with her order he asked “So what’s your name if I may ask?” “You MAY ask but that doesn’t mean I’m going to answer.” She replied while beginning to undue the wrappings around his thigh, “So ARE you going to answer me?” he asked grimacing as she pulled out a small piece of metal from his wound “My names Aenar by the way.” “My names Celia, and I know who you are Legate.” Celia said as she started to apply a healing spell to his leg, a faint gold glow emanating from her hands “Most of the soldiers here don’t even care for the Emperor, but they all speak very highly of you. I’ve also heard tales of you fighting fifty Aldmeri soldiers with a flaming sword.” She said with a very sarcastic expression on her face. ”Well, I don’t want to take credit for something I didn’t do so I’ll just come right out and say it…. I didn’t have a sword.” Aenar said smiling as she finished tying up his bandage.
Celia smiled at his comment, “I’m serious though half the troops here won’t stop talking about the famous warrior Aenar Stormblade, and from what I can tell you saved many of those soldiers out there.” Aenar looked up at the ceiling as he started to become uncomfortable, “Well I try, there’s only so much that you can do during a battle like that.” Celia stood up dusting her hands on her clothes, “Any man who can save a life is fine in my book.” Aenar stood up as well, “Even if it means taking even more lives?’ he asked “You know Aenar, nobody can save everyone but if you can save a life by taking another than I think you should and be prepared to answer when it’s time.” She finished as she walked him out of the tent. Aenar glanced up at the sun, the same smells assaulting his nostrils, and Aenar smiled at the thought of putting this whole war behind him and settling down.
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