PelagiusIV
Active Member
Background:
My name is Atticus. I'm an Imperial, born and raised in the city of Bruma in Cyrodiil. My mother, Val, was a Nord, while my father, Oritius, was an Imperial. Shortly after my birth, my mother died of a disease, so I only know her from the stories I've been told by my father. She was a kind women, always more concerned with the well-being of others over her own. She was also highly religious, and would spend hours a day praying at the The Great Chapel of Talos at the center of our town. She would do anything it took to avoid conflict, which lead some to see her as a pushover. My father, now he was the exact opposite. He was a soldier in the Imperial Army, the grandest army to ever grace Tamriel. Due to this, I didn't get to see him as often as I wished, and I went to live with my aunt, Selvia. But when I did see him it was the best days of my life. He was strict, forceful, uptight, proper and intimidating. But that was what others saw in him. When it was just him and myself, he would be relaxed, playful, often telling jokes so funny that I would have to leave the room to calm down for just the sight of him and that smile of his would keep me going all night long. But he was also serious, always pounding into me the importance of honor and loyalty to family, The Nine Divine, and the Empire.
During my childhood, a great war was going on, and although my Aunt refused to tell me what it was about (She said I was to young, and that the stories would keep me up at night, and when I did find sleep it would be tormented with nightmares). All I knew or cared about was that it kept my father away. But then, one glorious day, in the year 4E 175, the war was over. I was more excited then I had ever been in my life. My father was finally coming home. But my aunt seemed less excited. For some reason, she seemed nervous, jumpy and scarred. The next day a letter was dropped off at our house by the courier. My aunt read it, then told me to start packing my stuff, we were moving.
We went to a little cabin a little west of Bruma, hidden in the Colovian Highlands. I asked why we had to leave, but she said to not ask questions and just do as I say. I was to tell no one were we were going, or even the fact that we were leaving at all. We left in the middle of the night with only what we could carry on our backs. I hated that cabin, and I hated the isolation. How would my father know where to find us up here?
It was 4E 199, and my father still never returned. I began to fear the worst, that he had died in battle. But how? He was the strongest, quickest, most skilled warrior I had ever seen! Surely this was not the outcome. Then one gloomy day there was a knock on our cabin door. My aunt froze where she stood, wide eyed in horror. In all the years we spent in that cabin, never had we seen or heard another sole. Initially I grabbed my rusty wood cutters ax, and crept to the door. Right before I was about to open it my aunt put her hand on my shoulder and I stopped. I turned to see her with tears in her eyes. 29 years, and never had I seen her shed a single tear. She whispered to me, so low I could barely make out what it was she was saying, but I still remember word for word.
"Atticus, you must leave. You are still young, my days are already growing to an end. Go to the kitchen and hide in the secret cellar under the house. And promise me that no matter what you hear you will not come out until you know for certain that whoever is outside this door has left."
I promised her, and went to the cellar as she asked. I heard the door open, and in the next instant a cry louder then any I had ever heard came from her mouth, followed by uncontrollable sobbing. There was a thud, then the sound of rolling. I feared that whoever it was at the door had killed my aunt, but still I heard the crying. But next I heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed, and I knew what would come next. I covered my ears for I not dare hear what was going on, as it was already painful enough. I sat for what felt like years before I uncovered my ears and heard nothing but silence. I waited even longer to make sure I was alone, then I crept out of the cellar and head for the door.
Never, in a million years, did I imagine what I saw there. What caused the thud and sound of rolling was now clear. Lying right inside the door way was the head of my father, Oritius. I dropped to my knees, to weak to stand. My vision became blurred, first with tears, then with dizziness. Nothing could have prepared me for this. I stayed there on my knees for a full day, too shocked to move. After the sun rose the next day I finally found strength to get to my feet again. I turned around and saw that the only thing damaged within my house was our little shrine to Talos. Why, I asked myself, would someone kill my father, come in search of my aunt, kill her, and destroy and loot nothing in our house, except the shrine to Talos? It made no sense to me. But one thing was for certain, Revenge. I yet knew against who, or what, or anything. But I was certain I would have my revenge.
My name is Atticus. And this is my story.
Rules:
HUD: Set to 0%
Only carry 1/3 of your max carry weight.
Can only carry a maximum of 30 arrows.
Can not use potions in the middle of a battle, and only when weapon is sheathed.
Can not steal from or harm friendly characters.
Must sleep at least 8 hours a day.
Must eat 2 meals a day. (A meal consist of a drink, and 2 food items)
No fast traveling or waiting.
If you die, must stay at an inn for 7 days.
Difficulty is set to apprentice at the moment. This is my first hardcore play threw with these guidelines and I want to get used to it before I up the difficulty.
I was inspired to do this by "Friday is my Day"'s journal of Filim. He is a great story-teller and everyone should check out his journal.
http://skyrimforum.com/threads/diary-of-filim-the-hunter.7845/
Any comments/suggestions are gladly excepted and encouraged. The only way to get better is to know what needs to be improved.
My name is Atticus. I'm an Imperial, born and raised in the city of Bruma in Cyrodiil. My mother, Val, was a Nord, while my father, Oritius, was an Imperial. Shortly after my birth, my mother died of a disease, so I only know her from the stories I've been told by my father. She was a kind women, always more concerned with the well-being of others over her own. She was also highly religious, and would spend hours a day praying at the The Great Chapel of Talos at the center of our town. She would do anything it took to avoid conflict, which lead some to see her as a pushover. My father, now he was the exact opposite. He was a soldier in the Imperial Army, the grandest army to ever grace Tamriel. Due to this, I didn't get to see him as often as I wished, and I went to live with my aunt, Selvia. But when I did see him it was the best days of my life. He was strict, forceful, uptight, proper and intimidating. But that was what others saw in him. When it was just him and myself, he would be relaxed, playful, often telling jokes so funny that I would have to leave the room to calm down for just the sight of him and that smile of his would keep me going all night long. But he was also serious, always pounding into me the importance of honor and loyalty to family, The Nine Divine, and the Empire.
During my childhood, a great war was going on, and although my Aunt refused to tell me what it was about (She said I was to young, and that the stories would keep me up at night, and when I did find sleep it would be tormented with nightmares). All I knew or cared about was that it kept my father away. But then, one glorious day, in the year 4E 175, the war was over. I was more excited then I had ever been in my life. My father was finally coming home. But my aunt seemed less excited. For some reason, she seemed nervous, jumpy and scarred. The next day a letter was dropped off at our house by the courier. My aunt read it, then told me to start packing my stuff, we were moving.
We went to a little cabin a little west of Bruma, hidden in the Colovian Highlands. I asked why we had to leave, but she said to not ask questions and just do as I say. I was to tell no one were we were going, or even the fact that we were leaving at all. We left in the middle of the night with only what we could carry on our backs. I hated that cabin, and I hated the isolation. How would my father know where to find us up here?
It was 4E 199, and my father still never returned. I began to fear the worst, that he had died in battle. But how? He was the strongest, quickest, most skilled warrior I had ever seen! Surely this was not the outcome. Then one gloomy day there was a knock on our cabin door. My aunt froze where she stood, wide eyed in horror. In all the years we spent in that cabin, never had we seen or heard another sole. Initially I grabbed my rusty wood cutters ax, and crept to the door. Right before I was about to open it my aunt put her hand on my shoulder and I stopped. I turned to see her with tears in her eyes. 29 years, and never had I seen her shed a single tear. She whispered to me, so low I could barely make out what it was she was saying, but I still remember word for word.
"Atticus, you must leave. You are still young, my days are already growing to an end. Go to the kitchen and hide in the secret cellar under the house. And promise me that no matter what you hear you will not come out until you know for certain that whoever is outside this door has left."
I promised her, and went to the cellar as she asked. I heard the door open, and in the next instant a cry louder then any I had ever heard came from her mouth, followed by uncontrollable sobbing. There was a thud, then the sound of rolling. I feared that whoever it was at the door had killed my aunt, but still I heard the crying. But next I heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed, and I knew what would come next. I covered my ears for I not dare hear what was going on, as it was already painful enough. I sat for what felt like years before I uncovered my ears and heard nothing but silence. I waited even longer to make sure I was alone, then I crept out of the cellar and head for the door.
Never, in a million years, did I imagine what I saw there. What caused the thud and sound of rolling was now clear. Lying right inside the door way was the head of my father, Oritius. I dropped to my knees, to weak to stand. My vision became blurred, first with tears, then with dizziness. Nothing could have prepared me for this. I stayed there on my knees for a full day, too shocked to move. After the sun rose the next day I finally found strength to get to my feet again. I turned around and saw that the only thing damaged within my house was our little shrine to Talos. Why, I asked myself, would someone kill my father, come in search of my aunt, kill her, and destroy and loot nothing in our house, except the shrine to Talos? It made no sense to me. But one thing was for certain, Revenge. I yet knew against who, or what, or anything. But I was certain I would have my revenge.
My name is Atticus. And this is my story.
Rules:
HUD: Set to 0%
Only carry 1/3 of your max carry weight.
Can only carry a maximum of 30 arrows.
Can not use potions in the middle of a battle, and only when weapon is sheathed.
Can not steal from or harm friendly characters.
Must sleep at least 8 hours a day.
Must eat 2 meals a day. (A meal consist of a drink, and 2 food items)
No fast traveling or waiting.
If you die, must stay at an inn for 7 days.
Difficulty is set to apprentice at the moment. This is my first hardcore play threw with these guidelines and I want to get used to it before I up the difficulty.
I was inspired to do this by "Friday is my Day"'s journal of Filim. He is a great story-teller and everyone should check out his journal.
http://skyrimforum.com/threads/diary-of-filim-the-hunter.7845/
Any comments/suggestions are gladly excepted and encouraged. The only way to get better is to know what needs to be improved.
