Exiled, A Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

“You stand before the Council of Elders for your use of the ‘dark arts’, Nym,” the High Elder growled. “You used the arts that have been banned since Ward was founded.” She was an old Nord hag.

The people of Ward, my ‘adoptive’ family feared magic. As if it was a plague upon humanity. The worse part was, I was a Witch-Hunter. I didn’t study magic, it just came to me. My ‘father’ was the High Shaman of Ward, but he wasn’t merely like the rest of these people, he taught me the ways of a Witch-Hunter.

“Nym, you used the ‘dark arts’ against the tribals of Vulpen. The ‘dark arts’ are what caused many of the problems in Nirn… Nym, you have until dawn to leave Ward forever. If you’re seen here again, it’ll be your head.”

I sighed as I walked out. I walked into my cabin and looked at the blade made from Nordic steel. Engraved in it was, “Champion”. I grabbed the blade and shoved it into my sheathe. I picked up my leather quiver and Nordic-steel and oak bow. I donned my leather armor and opened the door.

The Nords watched me leave. I was of Dunmeri blood; they feared me, because I was different. I couldn’t blame them, but their ignorance would lead them no where. As I walked out the gates, I felt the chilled flakes of snow bite into my face. I was merely history there, nothing more than text written in the book.

Hircine’s Moon was a vicious place. The mountainous terrain made it difficult to travel. Finally I reached the valley and the snow continued into my flesh. I forced my body to continue, fighting the elements was like fighting the gods…

I saw a corpse, it was fresh. A young Nord had come here and an arrow went into his back. But what made it real interesting is, his body was cut to the bone, except for his head. “Mmmmm, dinner,” a voice whispered in my ear. I felt a dagger cut my face and as I tried to fight back I just couldn’t. I was so tired… I fell to my knees, asleep.

When I awoke, I had a collar around my neck and shackles around my wrists that held me against a wall. “You hungry?” the voice asked. “I’ve got some delicious Nord Stew and I’m more than willing to share.”

“You N’wah, you’re a cannibal. That’s so foul! That Nord was barely an adolescent and you’re eating him.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” the man sighed as he walked in. “Open your mouth and eat it.” His hands shook as he moved, almost as if they were twitching.

When I refused, he grabbed my jaw and shoved a spoonful of his crimson-liquid inside my mouth as well as a chunk of flesh. I vomited all over myself as I was trying to cast “Ondusi’s Open Door”.

“Fine, no more for you, that just means more for me. I’ll enjoy it, though.” He grinned eagerly as he shoved a spoonful of the grim stew into his mouth. “Mmmm, you want more?”

“You Fetcher, that’s a person!”

“And now he’s my dinner. Don’t worry, he’ll be keeping me full for a couple weeks, then you get to be my meals. I’ve never tried dark elf.” His hood fell back and I saw his bony face. His yellow teeth, his sunken, pallid eyes, his almost white skin, it made him look even more inhumane.

I muttered under my breath and finally I succeeded in the spell to unlock my shackles. I muttered again and my collar unlocked. However, this time he heard it. “You are trying to run away? But the muscle is so much tougher when you run first, why don’t you hold still?”

He grabbed an axe and swung at me. Luckily, I evaded it by a hair…barely. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon. I grabbed a knife he had on the table and stabbed at him.

It connected to his left arm, but I don’t think he noticed as the axe came down into my shoulder. “May you forever suffer in the Dead Lands, you S’wit!” I cried out in anguish. I muttered under my breath and flame bit into his face, searing it and enraging him.

“You’re not going to die quickly, I’ll eat you while you live!”

He swung again, but I thrust the knife into his stomach. He looked at it as the scarlet fluid that was his blood formed a puddle at his feet. Life outside of Ward would be much different…