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- Dec 12, 2006
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Well, I decided to write this story for a "Your character's backround" thread on some Oblivion forum, and, I must say I'm quite proud. It's different than my other stories with the fact that it's first person, and is basically just a retelling of a story by my character. This is a minor Warcraft cross-over with the fact that it features a blade similar in style to frostmourne so... yeah. I hope you enjoy it! (NOTE: Knowing basic lore/facts about Oblivion is advised before reading!)
It has been a short time since my arrival in Cyrodiil. I had come to seek my fortune and to start my life over again, after imprisonment for my 'crime'... if you could call stealing petty fruits and vegetables a CRIME...! Upon completing my long and arduous sentence, I was escorted to the Warden. He had given me simple rags to cover my nearly-bare and bony body and a bag of a few coins. He then pointed towards the door, and, I exited. Two guards escorted me out, and, upon exiting the Imperial City Prison, they plummeted me to the ground and spit on me. 'Pathetic whelp!', they said, mockingly... I grit my teeth with anger as I promised myself that ONE DAY... I would have my revenge...
That day came sooner than expected. A few days later, while I was wandering the forests of Southern Cyrodiil, I happened upon an encampment. I stumbled over to find a pot of stew roasting over an open fire. 'Food!', I said excitedly as I reached for the ladle. But before I could gulp it down, a blade slithered across my neck. I looked up to find bandits staring me in the face with angry, hurtful eyes. They were going to try and steal whatever gold the Warden had issued me... 'No!' I shouted. 'I have HAD it with the abuse. No longer shall I sit and hide in the shadows and be mugged and tortured!' I elbowed one of the bandits and grabbed his sword, and the a fight to the death ensued. Each strike they made at me I parried and counterattacked, killing them one by one...
Rising from the bloodstained ground, I tossed the blade to the ground. I looked up the sky and let loose a howl that would scare even the strongest Daedra Lord! It pierced those within earshot, and the nearby animals had fled in fear. At that moment, I saw where my destiny lay. In the distance, up a tall hill, stood an ancient doorway to a large cavern. I walked towards it, and slowly, I began to notice a change in the weather. Everything suddenly grew colder...
The door was frozen. Every part was covered with ice. I touched it gently and trembled in the cold... And it all went black.
After what seemed like an eternity later I awoke, and before me rested a mighty helm and blade. They... called to me. They asked me to hold them. To bear them... and so I did. I placed the helm on my head gripped the sword with both hands. And then... I changed. My skin began to pale, my eyes began to glow, and the cold... the cold felt... good. I was no longer some wandering peasant. I was no longer some weakling that would suffer beneath the feet of others. I am the Death Knight, and my will... shall be DONE!
I hope you enjoyed it. As with any other story I write (or type) I ask that you review and share your personal interests and nitpicks you have.
It has been a short time since my arrival in Cyrodiil. I had come to seek my fortune and to start my life over again, after imprisonment for my 'crime'... if you could call stealing petty fruits and vegetables a CRIME...! Upon completing my long and arduous sentence, I was escorted to the Warden. He had given me simple rags to cover my nearly-bare and bony body and a bag of a few coins. He then pointed towards the door, and, I exited. Two guards escorted me out, and, upon exiting the Imperial City Prison, they plummeted me to the ground and spit on me. 'Pathetic whelp!', they said, mockingly... I grit my teeth with anger as I promised myself that ONE DAY... I would have my revenge...
That day came sooner than expected. A few days later, while I was wandering the forests of Southern Cyrodiil, I happened upon an encampment. I stumbled over to find a pot of stew roasting over an open fire. 'Food!', I said excitedly as I reached for the ladle. But before I could gulp it down, a blade slithered across my neck. I looked up to find bandits staring me in the face with angry, hurtful eyes. They were going to try and steal whatever gold the Warden had issued me... 'No!' I shouted. 'I have HAD it with the abuse. No longer shall I sit and hide in the shadows and be mugged and tortured!' I elbowed one of the bandits and grabbed his sword, and the a fight to the death ensued. Each strike they made at me I parried and counterattacked, killing them one by one...
Rising from the bloodstained ground, I tossed the blade to the ground. I looked up the sky and let loose a howl that would scare even the strongest Daedra Lord! It pierced those within earshot, and the nearby animals had fled in fear. At that moment, I saw where my destiny lay. In the distance, up a tall hill, stood an ancient doorway to a large cavern. I walked towards it, and slowly, I began to notice a change in the weather. Everything suddenly grew colder...
The door was frozen. Every part was covered with ice. I touched it gently and trembled in the cold... And it all went black.
After what seemed like an eternity later I awoke, and before me rested a mighty helm and blade. They... called to me. They asked me to hold them. To bear them... and so I did. I placed the helm on my head gripped the sword with both hands. And then... I changed. My skin began to pale, my eyes began to glow, and the cold... the cold felt... good. I was no longer some wandering peasant. I was no longer some weakling that would suffer beneath the feet of others. I am the Death Knight, and my will... shall be DONE!
I hope you enjoyed it. As with any other story I write (or type) I ask that you review and share your personal interests and nitpicks you have.
