Laird Wingate
Member
At the break of dawn the sun rose above the horizon and the rooster crowed in the chicken coop. Gathering his workers before the start of the mornings activities the foreman issued them their duties. As usual Wesley was given the most arduous task, hoeing the gardens. Wesley always won the annual contest of strength, and his master liked to take advantage of his physical endurance. Despite always getting the hardest tasks Wesley enjoyed working on Prixley Farm. He had grown up in Falkreath, which was just half a days journey away from the farm. The owners of the farm had known Wesley since he was a boy, and had been good friends with his parents. Avid worshipers of Talos, Wesley’s parents had been executed long ago for their outspoken protest against the Thalmor. Stefan and Jenny, the farm’s owners, used to meet with Wesley’s parents in secret to worship Talos. Young Wesley would come along to the meetings and when his parents died he came to Stefan and Jenny to help escape the Thalmor. His old name was abandoned and Wesley took the name of his new surrogate parents.
Wesley had long ago come to terms with the loss of his parents, but his rage against the Thalmor was like a fire that couldn’t be extinguished. His surrogate parents made him promise to give up Talos worship with them so they could live a normal life under the White Gold Concordat. Despite his promise to Stefan and Jenny, Wesley did not stop worshipping the great Hero-God Talos.
One day when Wesley was twelve he found a deep cave that seemed to go all the way through the mountain. Standing in the mouth of the cave, Wesley felt a deep sense of belonging. His real parents suddenly appeared to him in spectral form. “Wesley,” they said to him, “this cave was once the site of a shrine to Talos, you must rebuild it.” Tears streaming down his face, Wesley pledged his life to the restoration of the shrine. In an inner chamber he found an ancient statue of Talos carved into the cave wall. It was overgrown with moss and covered with dirt, but Wesley knew that he would soon have it fixed up.
For seven years he worshipped at the cave without being discovered. One day he came to the cave for his usual worship, and experienced his first defining moment. Wesley stepped into the inner chamber and bowed before the ancient statue. He closed his eyes and began singing ancient hymns that were taught to him in visions. A deep sense of calm descended upon him and once again his parents appeared to him. “Wesley,” they said to him, “the shrine has been tainted by a foul presence, you must be on your guard and prepare to defend the statue. Should the statue by harmed your connection with Talos will be severed and you will be on your own in the fight that is to come. Good luck my son.”
Wesley rose to his feet and turned around, facing his back to the statue. Three pale faces appeared out of the darkness and moved towards his sanctuary. Clad in dark robes, they were unmistakably Thalmor Judiciars. Not even waiting for them to speak, Wesley leapt at them like a wild Sabrecat. Swinging his battleaxe over his head, he broke through the lead Thalmors guard cleaving the mer in half. One of the Thalmor hurled a sizzling lightning bolt at Wesley, searing his skin and making him yell out in pain. The other Thalmor overcharged his lightning bolt and struck Wesley in the chest, sending him flying backwards against the cave wall. Wesley’s axe fell out of his hand, and darkness started to cover his vision. Suddenly he remembered Talos’ greatest weapon, the power of the Voice. As the two Thalmor rushed in to skewer Wesley with their wicked Elven swords, he filled his lungs with a huge breath of air. “FUS!” shouted Wesley, sending his foes flying backwards across the shrine. He quickly grabbed his axe back up and rushed towards the Thalmor. With a bellow he swept his axe in a wide arc, striking both Thalmor in the chest. One Thalmor appeared to be deeply wounded and crawled across the ground to lean against a column. The other regained his position and attacked with a flurry of blows. Wesley blocked the sword strikes and saw the other Thalmor getting ready to hurl a lightning bolt. Parrying the next swing he moved around the Thalmor as the wizard hurled the lightning bolt at him. The bolt struck the Thalmor in the back, giving Wesley the opportunity he needed. With a quick motion he severed the Thalmor’s head from his torso, then ran at the other one. He rose his axe above his head. The mer let out a piercing scream before the axe came down upon him.
Wesley was in rough shape after the fight. Coughing up blood, he leaned on his axe as he made his way to the statue. Kneeling down before Talos he felt that this might be the last time he worshipped here. If these Thalmor knew that his shrine was here, then others must also know. Wesley piled the bodies in a heap at the entrance to the inner chamber. Striking his axe against the roof of the entrance he brought down a small rockslide to bury the bodies and block off the sacred shrine. With a heavy heart Wesley began the trek back to his farm. As he walked down the road he felt his spirit soaring through the heavens, elated at his victory. Finally he had tasted vengeance for his parents’ death.
Back on the farm, the workday was in full swing. The morning had gone smoothly without any surprises, just the way Wesley liked it. Leaning against his hoe, Wesley wiped beads of sweat off his brow. The noonday sun beat mercilessly down on him. He raised his hand to cover his eyes and looked out across the endless fields. Beyond the fields he could just make out the mountains. A black shape was moving against the backdrop of the mountains. At first he thought that it was a figment of his imagination, but the shape kept coming closer. As the figure came into view he could see giant wings beating up and down against the wind...
Wesley had long ago come to terms with the loss of his parents, but his rage against the Thalmor was like a fire that couldn’t be extinguished. His surrogate parents made him promise to give up Talos worship with them so they could live a normal life under the White Gold Concordat. Despite his promise to Stefan and Jenny, Wesley did not stop worshipping the great Hero-God Talos.
One day when Wesley was twelve he found a deep cave that seemed to go all the way through the mountain. Standing in the mouth of the cave, Wesley felt a deep sense of belonging. His real parents suddenly appeared to him in spectral form. “Wesley,” they said to him, “this cave was once the site of a shrine to Talos, you must rebuild it.” Tears streaming down his face, Wesley pledged his life to the restoration of the shrine. In an inner chamber he found an ancient statue of Talos carved into the cave wall. It was overgrown with moss and covered with dirt, but Wesley knew that he would soon have it fixed up.
For seven years he worshipped at the cave without being discovered. One day he came to the cave for his usual worship, and experienced his first defining moment. Wesley stepped into the inner chamber and bowed before the ancient statue. He closed his eyes and began singing ancient hymns that were taught to him in visions. A deep sense of calm descended upon him and once again his parents appeared to him. “Wesley,” they said to him, “the shrine has been tainted by a foul presence, you must be on your guard and prepare to defend the statue. Should the statue by harmed your connection with Talos will be severed and you will be on your own in the fight that is to come. Good luck my son.”
Wesley rose to his feet and turned around, facing his back to the statue. Three pale faces appeared out of the darkness and moved towards his sanctuary. Clad in dark robes, they were unmistakably Thalmor Judiciars. Not even waiting for them to speak, Wesley leapt at them like a wild Sabrecat. Swinging his battleaxe over his head, he broke through the lead Thalmors guard cleaving the mer in half. One of the Thalmor hurled a sizzling lightning bolt at Wesley, searing his skin and making him yell out in pain. The other Thalmor overcharged his lightning bolt and struck Wesley in the chest, sending him flying backwards against the cave wall. Wesley’s axe fell out of his hand, and darkness started to cover his vision. Suddenly he remembered Talos’ greatest weapon, the power of the Voice. As the two Thalmor rushed in to skewer Wesley with their wicked Elven swords, he filled his lungs with a huge breath of air. “FUS!” shouted Wesley, sending his foes flying backwards across the shrine. He quickly grabbed his axe back up and rushed towards the Thalmor. With a bellow he swept his axe in a wide arc, striking both Thalmor in the chest. One Thalmor appeared to be deeply wounded and crawled across the ground to lean against a column. The other regained his position and attacked with a flurry of blows. Wesley blocked the sword strikes and saw the other Thalmor getting ready to hurl a lightning bolt. Parrying the next swing he moved around the Thalmor as the wizard hurled the lightning bolt at him. The bolt struck the Thalmor in the back, giving Wesley the opportunity he needed. With a quick motion he severed the Thalmor’s head from his torso, then ran at the other one. He rose his axe above his head. The mer let out a piercing scream before the axe came down upon him.
Wesley was in rough shape after the fight. Coughing up blood, he leaned on his axe as he made his way to the statue. Kneeling down before Talos he felt that this might be the last time he worshipped here. If these Thalmor knew that his shrine was here, then others must also know. Wesley piled the bodies in a heap at the entrance to the inner chamber. Striking his axe against the roof of the entrance he brought down a small rockslide to bury the bodies and block off the sacred shrine. With a heavy heart Wesley began the trek back to his farm. As he walked down the road he felt his spirit soaring through the heavens, elated at his victory. Finally he had tasted vengeance for his parents’ death.
Back on the farm, the workday was in full swing. The morning had gone smoothly without any surprises, just the way Wesley liked it. Leaning against his hoe, Wesley wiped beads of sweat off his brow. The noonday sun beat mercilessly down on him. He raised his hand to cover his eyes and looked out across the endless fields. Beyond the fields he could just make out the mountains. A black shape was moving against the backdrop of the mountains. At first he thought that it was a figment of his imagination, but the shape kept coming closer. As the figure came into view he could see giant wings beating up and down against the wind...
