Once Skyrim is released, I will be writing a story as my character travels through the world. It will be about his various encounters, travels and daily events throughout his adventure up until the end. Below is the backstory I've written to start off with and it ends where Skyrim begins. I will also be posting screenshots along with it when I can. Hopefully someone will enjoy reading it and I've put it to myself as a personal challenge to write it. Here you go.
This is the story of Svard of Tieg, a warrior nord with an unexpected future.
Svard was born in the cold mountains of the north in a small village by the name of Tieg far away from any civilization. They were a very hardened people to survive in such an environment and as such he would have to become strong as well or perish in the blizzards. He learned to hunt by the age of 10 and showed exceptional leadership skills amongst the other boys his age. On his 11th birthday he and the boys ventured out and killed their first beast, a full-sized mammoth and dragged it back to camp. A feat most of the men in his village had not completed until they were in their 20's. They attributed his victory to his exceptional ability to command his friends and the families of the boys were awarded with twice the usual amount of meat from a kill. During the next few years he became stronger, more skilled and a fierce warrior. He learned to be a masterful hunter in the icy cold winter tundra and he could fight the fiercest tiger with only his bare fists.
Upon reaching the age of 30, a new generation of boys had began their life as hunters and it was time for him to leave. A tradition of his village, due to the scarcity of food being unable to support a growing population, was that with every new generation left the old. They would use their skills in the wilderness to survive until they found an opponent who was strong enough to kill them and send them to Sovngarde. With farewells and a small feast, he departed, walking into the icy storms southward into the unknown.
For many days he travelled, managing to make his food last throughout the bitter storm. He found caves to spend the nights in and had very few run-ins with wild creatures aside from a troll or two, which was no problem for a warrior such as himself. When he at last discovered the first settlement, a small town, yet still a town. He was amazed. The large stone walls, the small wood and stone homes were the grandest thing he'd ever seen built by fellow nordsmen. He proceeded into the town and to the nearest person he saw. When he got closer, he realized it was not a nordsman but a strange looking short thing with pointy ears and rather disgustingly yellowish hair.
"Whattaya want?" the creature asked, rather abruptly.
"I just arrived here. What are you?" Svard replied.
"Whatt're ya some kind of idiot?" the thing turned around and started to walk off.
This angered Svard. He demanded respect from those he spoke to and this non-nord, puny animal wouldn't last a night in Tieg. If the cold didn't get him, the animals or the other villagers would. He ground his teeth and reached for his broadsword. In a raging fury, he unsheathed it and swung it down upon the pathetic thing's back, its blood pouring out across him. The creature screamed a shriek before it toppled over and it wasn't long before many men, actual nordsmen were in sight, their weapons bared, ready for combat. Svard was not one to decline a challenge, and it seemed this was a challenge. He roared to High Hrothgar and charged at the men, seeing them only as foes to do battle with. They fought many rounds and he was able to wound enough of them to even the odds, but just when he was about to land a final killing blow on the captain, he was frozen. Literally. His body became paralyzed, he could not move a muscle. He couldn't even move his eyeballs to look around, but something came into his view. Another one of those pathetic short creatures just like the one he had killed moments before. This one, however, had bright red hair and was draped in purple cloth with a tall curved wooden stick in his hand and a dagger in his other. If Svard could have moved, the thing would be dead in an instant, but something he did not understand kept him motionless. The creature spoke some words he could not hear and many more nordsmen came and dragged his immobile body away. He was shoved into a prison cell before he could move again, but by then he was helpless.
After what felt like a lifetime of being blindfolded, transported, put in prison, then blindfolded, transported and put in prison again, a rather short, fat balding man approached his cell. They told him he was to be executed in nine days. It seemed that he would not make it to Sovngarde after all, and his life was a waste. He sat in his cell, unable to do anything except wait.