Creative Writing - Carnivora's back story

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Carnivora

New Member
A little creative writing I did to get my brain gears all oiled up again! This is basically the story of how my character came to Skyrim. TL'DR is she was stolen, originally from Skyrim - from a beast, raised as a hunter, until the beast killed her family. She then betrayed the animal (her true family) by killing it, and was shunned from the forest in which she committed the crime. She made her way across the border, was captures and BAM enter Helgen. I do suggest you read though ;) As this is I believe the best creative writing piece I've done in a long while.

Carnivora Beast-Born

Carnivora Beast-Born was naturally born of beast blood. How fitting she would end up as the Dragonborn hmm? Ner' a soul truly knows where the girl came from or how she came to be. A hunter discovered a wailing child in the dark depths of the Pine Forest, where many a beast roam and few men dare to explore.
The poorly hunter followed the cries through the dense scrub until he came across an eerie clearing that broke the shadow of the evergreens. A large circular rock jutted from the earth, flat on the top. An alter of sorts. In a shallow bowl carved into the rock, there was a pale newborn, blue in the face from crying. He snatched the child quickly, and retreated out of the forest. As he hurried out of the timberland, he looked behind himself periodically, the hair on the nape of his neck raising, and swore he saw a beast staring at him out of the shadows. When he finally reached the brightening edge of the forest, a mighty roar erupted from the depths of the glade behind him. What he behold when he faced the mighty sound made him nearly die of fright on the spot.

A great cat with white dappled fur and foot long fangs jutting from it's upper jaw slowly approached the man from between two great pines. As his human eyes adjusted to the darkness of the forest, he noticed other beasts. A troll peering out from behind a large birch. An immense deer with a spread wide enough to hold his wife walked alongside the sabre. A cave bear, squinting as it's tiny eyes adjust to the world above. They were all staring directly into the man's hard green eyes. Silent in their approach. He didn't know that at that moment, pulling his cloak over his face and turning to bolt from the wood, he had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

In the years that followed, the babe Throlad The Hunter had stolen from the woods grew into a remarkable child. Just outside of the Skyrim border, she lived with the hunter and his wife, along with their true born daughter, Mirella. They were simple, poverty stricken people. They lived in a wigwam, tanning hides for clothes and bedding, selling wares found on the road, hide armor and leather works as they traveled. They were nomads of the wilds. Fitting for the beast child.

Carnivora was nameless until about two. They had taken to calling her Wild Girl, and Beast Babe. It was apparent from a very young age that she was much different than an average toddler. She had.. a fierceness.. a savagery inside of her. She spent a lot of time by herself and was very quiet. She seemed attached to no one, with incredible strength and endurance. She had... cat like.. reflexes. Throlad grew to love the girl more so than he loved his own daughter. They each shared a need to be in the wilderness, whereas his true daughter preferred jewelry and dresses.

The Accident

The years passed, and the family fell into a strange, but peaceful lifestyle. Carnivora was about seven, and had taken to disappearing every so often for a week at a time. Throlad accepted this, as she was impossible to find, and always came back unharmed. Also, she seemed more at home and even safer in the forest than anywhere else. She was remarkably capable, had mastered a good handful of spells and had some fascinating hunting skills. The Accident happened on her eighth "birthday." The day Throlad celebrated the anniversary of when he brought her home out of that god forsaken forest.

Throlad and his two daughters were out hunting deep in a mountain range outside of Skyrim. His dearest wife was in the nearest town, marketing their goods and hoping to make a few extra coins to buy sweetrolls as a surprise for the girls. Dusk had settled hard and fast upon the mountain, and as the trio lay out their bedrolls the hair on the back of Throlads neck stood on end- his mind immediately visited the scene at the edge of the Pine Forest many years ago. That feeling... Glancing around he bid the girls goodnight and went to sit upon a rock outcrop for a vantage point to watch over their camp. Silently he crept, settling in the shadows. After a long while the feeling returned, and his gaze caught movement in the shadows along the edge of camp. It was Carnivora. She had gotten up, was dressed and armed with a bow, and he hadn't seen a thing. That child.... She was one with shadows and moved on silent feet. He watched her, curious. She was heading off somewhere, and he edged around the rock face to follow her movements.

His breath caught in his throat and he had to muffle a startled cry when he saw the great beast perched below him on the snow pack. A giant sabre with a beautiful glistening white dappled hide.. teeth like swords jutting out of it's top jaw, curling gracefully along the line of powerful jowls. He drew his hand up to smother another muffled shriek when he caught sight of his favorite daughter staring the cat down from atop a small hill rising above the animal. He would never dare swing a sword at a creature so powerful! His beloved beast-child was surely dead. Oh the shame! She hadn't even an arrow knocked! She was frozen in fear! He looked on, tears streaking his windworn cheeks, when suddenly her shining blue eyes looked up from the beast, and stared coldly into his own. At that moment he experienced the true feeling of prey, so alien. The cold shake and fluttering heart a deer must feel when he looks into the eyes of a hunter and knows he's doomed, he knew. She held her cold stare, full of blue fire and hunger. A stare he was all to familiar with himself, his stare when chasing a wounded goat through the cold tundra before dispatching it with a jeweled dagger in the throat. A hunters stare.

Movement from below caught his attention and he tore his eyes away from hers. The cat was moving toward her. He made no sound as they joined each other on the top of the hill. An electric energy filled the air as the young girl touched her forehead to the sabre's. Every hair on his body stood at attention, crackling and dancing in the static charge. The cat broke their greeting and he looked into it's eyes. It had the same eyes as the girl. The same cold stare. His gut began to flip-flop when both beast and beast-child locked on to his pale green eyes. Suddenly, a fierce wind blew down the mountain side, bringing with it a cloud of snow. The snow engulfed the two and when it had subsided they were gone. It took him hours to leave the nook he was crouched in. He shakily climbed down and crawled into his furs, drifting to sleep under the light of the Aurora Borealis and the sound of wolves howling in the distant mountains.

A metallic smell roused him from unsettling dreams. A soft, wet shhh sound accompanied the smell. Eyes closed, he slowly reached for his enchanted dagger. Muscle memory. Springing to action, he leaped to his feet - uttered a cry ,and dropped to his knees when he viewed the carnage that lay before him. Blood soaked the snow, and the dappled fur of the arctic sabre was stained red. It lay twenty feet away, facing him, it had licked the skin and hair off Mirella's decapitated head, revealing the skull beneath. Her lifeless eyes and horror stricken expression stared at him, forever frozen in death and cold. The monster paused mid lick, studied him and resumed his slow meal.

Rage filled his mind. His vision became red and black. He roared a cry so full of pain and anguish that he awoke dragons in the mountains of Skyrim. Just as he was about to crash forward into the murderous animal, hands took his face and soft, watery blue eyes peered into his. It was his dear beast child. As she whispered "I'm sorry." Oceans of tears spilled from her stormy eyes and her lip stuck out. His heart melted and his rage fled. She had done this? When he peeked behind her, the cat was gone, along with his daughters head. "He's mad at you. But it's okay." The words rocked him. He had done this. He had stolen the child from the beast in the forest many years ago. And he had a plan. This was his daughter now. He grasped the child in his hands, hoist her up onto his shoulders and started trotting down the mountain.

Clutching his sobbing wife in his arms, Throlad The Hunter told his story the way a seasoned thief tells a simple lie. He had lied. He had told his dear wife a pack of wolves had dragged the girl off while they slept. He had even thrown a pile of pelts down at her feet, dropped to his knees and cried with her. They shall make robes of wolf hide to strike fear into the hearts of all canines when they pass. Their grief lasted a fortnight and nearly drove the woman mad. She turned into a paranoid, jittery mess, terrified of her own shadow along the road. She never once suspected their Beast Child or Throlad.

The End of The Hunter


Years went by without another incident. Carnivora's bond with Throlad grew much stronger, and they taught each other much in ways of hunting. He taught her the use of swords, bows and daggers, and she taught him to sneak better, walk without sound, and to dispatch large prey with a snap of the wrist and arms. Throlad's wife kept to herself in the hut, sewing and tanning constantly.

It was near dawn in the long night of Winter when the End came. The family was sleeping peacefully when a sabre stormed their hut. Claws and blades flashed, roars and cries battled the wind. In the end, the victor was of fur and fang. He roared into the moon furious that she wasn't there. Icy eyes scanned the shadows. She was here. He bellowed again. COME TO ME. He demanded in a language the beasts shared with the girl.

In the top limb of an ancient pine, sat the Beast Girl - staring at the glistening diamonds and rubies in her father's enchanted dagger. She glanced down at the cat, who's long tail was whipping back and forth impatiently. He bellowed for her. Howled and roared, the wind carrying the sound down the valley. She was about to betray the creatures of her name, the wilderness blood that coursed her veins. She was about to murder The King of the Forest - Aranax.

Silently perched high above the King, she bowed her head, For you, Father. She leaped, dagger in hand, falling toward the earth with that cold, blue fire look in her eyes.

The ground shook as citizens of Helgen wandered out of their houses in confusion. A pained, hair raising roar echoed through the electric air, the sound was laced with fury and betrayal. If one was listening closely, the animal cry of a girl could be heard below the King of the Forest's last dying bellow.

Enter Helgen......>>
 

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