The order of Cyrodiil Options

[y101]

Hey hows it goin. I have been reading a few of the stories that some of yall have been writing as guest and you have inspired me to write one of my own stories. Its a story about a group of mercenaries that form in cyrodiil that becomes some of the providence's most famed heros.


“Clouds covered the horizon and not a star shined in the sky. A light snow had begun to fall. Off in the distance you could hear the wolves howl through the darkness as if they could perceive what was happening. A heavy wind begun to blow, and it seemed like even the ancient mouths cursed that day, the day of my birth.” Said a young kid dressed in rags.

Arrogantly the imperial man the boy was talking to spoke up “Why don’t you talk to someone who cares? Your not getting a hand out from me you filthy beggar.” And with that the man walked away leaving the kid standing there with his arms out.

It was just another day for me. Another day of lying to the citizens of Solitude. Another day of making up stories so people would look upon me with pity. Maybe enough pity that they would spare me a coin. I hate begging, it’s against everything I believe in. It’s the biggest sign of weakness a person can show. Having to depend on others in order to live day to day, but I have to it’s the only way I can survive. That and it’s the only thing I’m good at doing. Heh I’m a twelve year old Nordic boy who has never even held a sword. It’s a wonder I’ve lived so long.

As these thoughts ran through my head memories of how I became this way emerged. It was three years ago, my mother had just passed away from some sort of disease and apparently my father owed a lot of money to some of the wrong people. I still remember waking up in the morning and finding my father gone. All he had left me was a note that said “Clouds covered the horizon and not a star shined in the sky. A light snow had begun to fall. Off in the distance you could hear the wolves howl through the darkness as if they could perceive what was happening. A heavy wind begun to blow, and it seemed like even the ancient mouths cursed that day, the day of your birth. Destin you are a cursed child, you bring pain and suffering to whom ever you’re around. I’m ashamed to call you my son.” Ever since that day I have been forced to beg to survive.

Soon after my father left some people came and took my house. They said it was collateral that my father owed them. Then they looked at me and said that I would have to leave and find somewhere else to go. I guess I should be happy at least they didn’t use me as collateral. I guess they saw how worthless I really am.

The worst part came to me when I realized I had no where to go. As far as I knew I didn’t have any other family members who I can live with and because I was always shy around other kids my age I never really had any friends who I could count on. And with nowhere else to go I just slept on the streets. Every day for the first couple of years I’d wake up thinking about what my father said about me. But that was a long time ago and since then I’ve come to terms with what my father wrote. He’s right, I am a cursed child.

I looked up at the setting sun and decided to call it a day. I didn’t want to be around when all the drunk Nords come stumbling out of the bar. As I crossed a corner into the alley where I usually sleep something caught my attention. It was a middle age Nord man wearing a robe that covered his entire body. Now I don’t usually talk to creepy looking men walking around in the alleyways but since I didn’t make any money today I figured it was worth a try.

I approached the man and begun by telling him the story I tell every person who I try to get money from. He remained emotionless the entire time I was talking to him and once I was done he just stared at me. For a few seconds I thought he was deaf or maybe he hadn’t heard me. I was about to repeat myself when he finally spoke. He looked down at me and said with a commanding voice. “Why do you beg for money?” His question surprised me. I have never been asked that by anyone before, even though I’ve asked myself that question thousands of times and I knew the answer by heart it took me a while to build up the courage to tell him. Nervously I told him, “To-to-to survive”

“You are a Nord why don’t you fight to survive?” The last question surprised me but this one stunned me. I honestly didn’t know the answer. Was it because I’m too afraid to die, or is it just because I had never thought about fighting? What does he mean by fighting anyway? Does he expect me to kill people and steal there money? Hesitantly I asked him what he meant and he responded, “You should hunt.”

This post has been edited by y101: Jun 30 2006, 05:22 AM