r/SkyrimBackStory

The little ghost looked at me without fear.

"Will you play hide and seek with me?"

I had crossed battlefields littered with corpses. I had carved through vampires, bandits, and cultists with Goldbrand until the blade glowed red with their blood. Boethiah teaches that strength is earned through struggle, and I had never questioned that lesson.

But a dead child asking for help...

That was different.

Helgi should have been laughing beside a warm fire with her mother. Instead, she wandered the ashes of the home where she had burned alive, waiting for someone who cared enough to listen.

That night, I did not hunt for glory. I hunted for justice.

Every step toward her grave was heavy. Every swing of Goldbrand against the vampire responsible carried more anger than any duel I had ever fought. Not because Boethiah demanded blood but because evil had stolen a child's future.

When Helgi finally smiled and said she could sleep, I understood something.

Strength is not measured by how many enemies you kill.

It is measured by who you choose to protect.

The longest night of my life ended not with a victory, but with the quiet words of a little ghost finally allowed to rest.

𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨.

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙣𝙤𝙬—𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚—𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙮𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝘼 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝘼 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘼 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢.

𝙄 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩-𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙. 𝙄𝙩𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩, 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙝𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙢—𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚.

𝘼 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮. 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙣.

𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨—

𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚.

𝙄 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚—𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙙.

𝙈𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨.

𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄.

𝙔𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙖𝙢… 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝘼 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚.

“𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨,” 𝙄 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙧.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣.

𝙃𝙞𝙢.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧, 𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣—

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙄 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙬, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙢.

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤. 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙁𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙖𝙢.

𝙄 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩-𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮.

𝘼 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜’𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝘼 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚.

𝙄𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩—

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡—

𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙄’𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣…

𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝙄’𝙢 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙮.

𝙍𝙞𝙨𝙠.

𝘼 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙣𝙤 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙨.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩—

𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙜𝙤—

𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚.

𝙈𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧.

“𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚…”

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣—

𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚— 𝙄’𝙢 𝙖𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙮𝙭.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙.

𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣… 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧—

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣.

𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮. 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙨,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩. “𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣’𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙. “𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙞𝙩.”

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙜.

“𝙎𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩?” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮.

“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨. “𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢.”

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩?” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙧.

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧. “𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙩.

“𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧?” 𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙙. “𝘼 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙄’𝙢 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧?”

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨.

“𝙄𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩.

“𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨,” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

“𝙉𝙤,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙. “𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩.”

𝘼𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠.

“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣,” 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙, 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧, “𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙. “𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨.”

“𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨.” 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧—𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬.

“𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩…” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮, “𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢.”

𝘼 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙩.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩—

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩, 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩,” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢—𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨.

“𝙄 𝙙𝙤.”

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣.

“𝙈𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙. “𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩… 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡?” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙, 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚.

“𝙔𝙚𝙨.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙡𝙢.

𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡.

𝙃𝙞𝙢.

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙞𝙩?” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙, 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩—𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙.

𝘼 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝.

“𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚… 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙨.”

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣.

𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢…

𝙊𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣—

𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚…

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙.

hi everybody, everything's in the titles, i want to share with you here my seventh skyrim character rp background (a new one i made recently), she's a 33-years-old wandering Redguard mercenary named Azim.

similar to all the previous ones, this character is inspired by one of the characters from an original medieval dark fantasy story i write on my free time and that i have recreate in Skyrim, so the first and second screens are him in skyrim and the last one is a more accurate version to how i imagine him looking in my story.

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My character is a 33-year-old wandering Redguard mercenary named Azim.

He was born in 4E 168 in Hammerfell, in a village near the city of Rihad, to Redguard parents. He spent the first eleven years of his life there, enjoying a normal childhood while alternating between learning swordsmanship from his father (a village noble and former Alik'r warrior) and the art of fire magic from his mother (a mage specializing in fire spells). This life changed in 4E 179 when the village, already weakened by the war against the Thalmor, was attacked by a band of pirates while his father was away in Rihad seeking aid from the Alik'r. The pirates looted the village and slaughtered most of the inhabitants, including Azim's mother. Azim tried to defend her by casting a fire spell at one of the pirate but was stabbed and left for dead. When his father returned a few days later, he found the village destroyed and all the inhabitants dead save for his son, who was still alive but gravely wounded. His father took him to Rihad, where they stayed for several months while Azim recovered. Afterward, they set out on the road, determined to track down the pirates and slaughter every last one of them in an act of vengeance.

For the next sixteen years, Azim and his father traveled across Tamriel in pursuit of the pirate band, until in 4E 195, they fell into an ambush. the pirates had caught wind that two Redguards had been hunting them for some time. Azim watched helplessly as his father was killed by two of the pirates (2 Argonians) while the others brutally beat Azim up. However, before they could killed him, Azim was saved by the intervention of 2 wandering mercenaries (William, 21 years old at the time, and his adoptive father, Gudmundr) who had been hired by a local noble to eliminate the pirates. The mercenaries killed most of the pirates, though the trio leading them (the 2 Argonians and a Nord) managed to escape. They then took Azim to a Temple of Dibella, leaving him in the care of the priestesses to heal his wounds. Once recovered, he set out again, spending the next 6 years continuing his hunt for the pirates.

During the events of Skyrim in 4E 201, having received infos that the pirates were somewhere in Skyrim, he crossed the border from Cyrodiil but found himself caught in a skirmish between Imperials and Stormcloaks before being captured by the Imperials (roleplay justification for why the character begins in a cart on the way to the chopping block).

In terms of gear, Azim wears Alik'r outfit and boots to give him the look of a mercenary from Hammerfell. His primary weapon is a Redguard curved sword, and he employs Destruction magic (specifically fire spells).

In terms of personality, Azim is calm, polite, and gentlemanly, he show a certain sense of honor towards the peoples he trust. however, he is a dangerous individual who can show no mercy if someone attempts to trap, steal or scam him.

As for the rest of my character's roleplay, here is how I intend to approach most of the major quests.

Regarding the main quest, like with all my other characters, I prioritize it, after all, given the extreme threat Alduin poses, it makes sense for Azim to make eliminating him his top priority before the dragon regains his full strength and destroys the world.

Regarding the Imperial/Stormcloak war, initially, as a traveling mercenary, Azim will not truly take a side. He will perform various tasks for both the Stormcloaks (such as solving the Windhelm murders or eliminating bandits for the Great War veteran) and the Imperials (such as taking out thieves for the Solitude executioner or wiping out the Dark Brotherhood for Commander Maro at Dragon Bridge). Eventually, however, he will side with the Stormcloaks, having a certain resentment toward the Imperials for attempting to execute him despite his name not being on their list, as well as for the Empire's abandonment of Hammerfell during the Great War and its current state of weakness and how compromise it is due to Thalmor spies within its ranks.

As for the Companions, Azim will join their ranks, initially out of curiosity being impressed by their closeness to each other and a desire to become an even more formidable warrior while gaining comrades-in-arms. Later, upon learning that some members are werewolves, he will refuse to become one however, viewing the condition as dishonorable.

Regarding the Dark Brotherhood, as mentioned earlier, after agreeing to eliminate Grelod for Aventus Aretino for the handsome payout and seing how toxic she is towards the orphans, he is approached by Astrid. However, faced with her proposition, and recalling that the name on the notes carried by the assassins who had repeatedly tried to kill him in the past (wich is the same), he chooses to kill her and wipe out the Dark Brotherhood in exchange for a substantial reward from Commander Maro.

Regarding the Thieves Guild, as Azim is a rather honest person, he does not join the guild and therefore does not undertake their quests.

Regarding the College of Winterhold, Azim joins the College not to become a student, but because he is searching for an Elder Scroll to stop Alduin. having no interest in becoming a mage, however, he does not complete their quests.

Regarding the Daedric Princes and the Divines quests, being distrustful of the dangers inherent in being beholden to them, Azim only undertakes quests that begin as ordinary tasks (such as those for Clavicus Vile or Sanghin), where one would not expect a Daedric Prince or Divine to be involved.

Regarding Dawnguard and Serana, there is little to say other than that he joins the Dawnguard because she refuses to become a vampire.

As for the quest involving Jaree-Ra and Deeja as well as the quest of the Executioner of Solitude, he will did it, but solely to eliminate them and avenge his parents' deaths and the massacre of his home village. (In my RP, I like to imagine that the pirates who slaughtered his village and killed his father were the Blackblood Marauders; Jaree-Ra and his sister Deeja as well as the captain Aldis took part in the massacre back when they were mere recruits, and they were the ones who killed his father right before his eyes in the year 195.)

What do you think of him ?

Sigvar Iron-Stride is a wandering Dragonborn who has seen echoes of countless other Dragonborns.

In one world, the Dragonborn he met became a hero of Skyrim.

In another, they joined the Volkihar Clan.

Some became scholars, thieves, warlords, assassins, priests, mercenaries, or quiet travelers who wanted nothing to do with prophecy.

Some became all of them.

Sigvar remembers fragments of them.

Not always their full story. Sometimes only a name, a choice, a battlefield, a companion, or the final words they spoke before disappearing from history.

For a future update to my follower mod, I am inviting other players to share their Dragonborn so Sigvar can occasionally tell stories about them. He may remember meeting them during his travels, hearing rumors about them in another land, seeing them in a dream, or encountering an echo of them from another possible world.

Here is one possible example:

>“I once knew someone like us,"
"Called herself Runa. Strong as any warrior I’ve met. Took down Alduin and walked away from it like it was nothing
“Never cared for titles. Guards in Solitude had a few names for her, none of them stuck. She just kept moving.”
“Funny thing is… I’ve met others like her. Same strength, same fire. Different choices.
“Makes you wonder which kind we’ll end up being.”

Your submission can be humorous, tragic, heroic, strange, or completely unhinged.

I will try to spin up a story/lesson learned from your character. Sigvar will recount these encounters as conversation within the mod, narrating them as memories, rumors, or echoes of lives he has witnessed.

Useful details may include:

Name and race
Their origin or backstory
Personality and combat style
Important companions or relationships
Major decisions they made
Something they are proud of
Something they regret
How they would react to Sigvar

Screenshots are also very welcome.

You can also decide the narration you want Sigvar for your character

I humbly invite everyone to take part, and if you’ve already posted something similar, feel free to include it or share a link.

Mod link:
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/177839

After Ella and Thogra discretely disposed of the body of the dead old woman, whom turned out to be an abusive woman ironically named Grelod the Kind, Ella and company fled Riften under the cover of night. Ella had no idea what consequences might befall them if the old woman’s death was traced to them, but she had little time to ponder. Ella, Thogra, and Sofia trekked through the forests of the Rift, heading North to their destination, the ancient dwarven city of Mzulft. On the way however, Ella was truly blessed with a miraculous sight. A unicorn.

It was wounded severely, the bodies of wolves surrounded it. Ella, having some knowledge of restoration, used healing hands spell on the mystical equine. Sofia, still in her state of drunkenness, attempted to ride the poor thing but was swiftly discouraged when Thogra simply knocked her out with a single punch. Seems even stoic Thogra could only take so much of Sofia’s drunken antics. Ella finished the healing of the unicorn as Thogra slung the unconscious body of Sofia over her shoulder. The unicorn stood, addressing Ella with what one could assume was gratitude, before trotting off into the forest. Ella watched it go, and couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, at both finding such a magnificent creature as well as the chance to even touch it.

They continued north, stopping at an Imperial Legion encampment. As they rested for the night, and waited for Sofia to wake and sober up, Thogra decided it was time to share her story with Ella. Turns out, Thogra was once a Legion soldier from Cyrodiil. She deserted 10 years ago after her husband was killed and went in search of his killer to avenge his death. One road led to another and Thogra became a mercenary until she met Ella. Thogra finished with apologies for holding Ella back when she tried to kill Ancano. Thogra felt it hypocritical now, as Thogra too was on a path of vengeance, one 10 years going strong. Ella forgave her, knowing what it was like to have a need to vengeance and the drive that keeps you going. Thogra smiled, feeling for the first time in 10 years that she may have found a kindred spirit. Ella felt similar, but did not smile. She still felt as though Thogra could not begin to understand just how deep Ella’s hatred for the Thalmor ran.

When daylight came, so did Sofia’s hangover. They set out north once more, now accompanied by Sofia’s complaints of a splitting headache. They finally reached the ruins and Ella was stunned. She had seen ruins before, but those were Nordic, these were something else entirely. They entered into the first set of doors they found and it turned out to be a storeroom of sorts. They defeated the dwarven construct that stood watch. It was almost human in its appearance and Ella wondered if that is how the dwarves had looked. Inside they found many exotic materials such as metal ingots and parts that Ella had no inkling as to what they may do. She turned to Sofia to ask for her thoughts only to see Sofia stuffing a whole ingot into her pouch. Ella watched in fascination as the ingots, bigger than the pouch Sofia had, disappeared into the pouch with no apparent problems. When questioned, Sofia simply said she picked it up while at the College, snatching it from the Arch-mage’s desk while Ella had confronted him. Ella, impressed, told Sofia to make herself useful and gather up all the parts she could. Guess Arniel Gabe might get his ‘cogs’ after all. Ella took a particular interest in a blue crystalline artifact that she tucked in her own pouch for safekeeping.

They left the storeroom and made it to the main entrance just in time to witness the last breath of a man in bloodied robes. He bid them to seek out something called an “occulatory” and then breathed his last. Ella searched his body and found his journal. It was something about a focusing crystal of some sort. They pressed into the ruins and encountered many constructs created by the dwarves, as well as the twisted goblinoid Falmer. Ella had never seen a Falmer before, but knew of them from children stories as they were said to steal away children in the night. She killed them without mercy, charring the twisted beasts as her party cut their way through the ruins.

Eventually they found the aforementioned crystal after a hard battle against a giant made of metal and steam. They made it to the last door and found it locked. Just as they were about to turn around, a voice responded and the door opened. A man in dirty robes greeted them with open hostility. Apparently he was the last survivor of the Synod research party. After Ella explained their intentions, and presented him with the focusing crystal, he showed them inside. He said he was worried that they were more of those blasted Aldmeri Dominion dogs, coming to steal his research. Ella was about to ask what he meant when she saw the corpses of several Thalmor soldiers littering the floor. She made a point to walk on them rather than over the bodies. It was obvious to her, they were here for the Staff of Magnus as well. And she knew Ancano was to blame. One of the elves, interestingly enough, was wearing a fascinating armor of dwarven make, and she almost mistook his corpse for one of the constructs.

The Synod researcher eventually led them to the main part of the occulatory, which housed a magnificent, if strange contraption. He placed the focusing crystal into the device and light channeled through it. He then bid Ella and Sofia to use ice and fire magic to help ‘tune’ the device to the right frequency so the light may strike where it was needed, as his own magic had been used up fighting the Thalmor soldiers. Ella and Sofia used their respective magics to tune the device, and succeeded when a map of Tamriel was projected on the wall. The Synod researcher was overjoyed at this success, but quickly became agitated when the results showed not what he had hoped. He rounded on Ella, believing she had come to foul his research. Thogra made him back down though. After a he had a moment to calm, he explained that the map was meant to show powerful magic resonances. The map only showed 2, Winterhold, and a place called Labyrinthian. When Ella questioned him on where she could find the Staff of Magnus, the researcher guessed that it must be at either of those 2 locations. He then wandered off to a table, mumbling about mages, counsels, and reports. Ella could see he had been in this place far too long alone.

Ella now had an idea as to where to search, but the bodies of the Thalmor soldiers disturbed her greatly. She had to get back to the College, fast. Who knows what Ancano must now be up to in her absence?

Mods shown: tournaments of ten bloods, swf umbra armor- it’s a armor replacer for the ebony mail and it’s light armor, mythical weathers, Bella beauty bundle, Skyland aio, dark Forrest, maris flora, mofumofu animation, Verolevi aio, realistic melee range, frozen electrocuted combustion, there will be blood dark texture, realistic death sounds,wildcat, valrvan, immersive movement,faction gear swf,enhanced npcs,npc drink potions, better combat ai, giant variants,real collision,TDG blocking enhanced,dynamic lighting, jaysepra npc taunt, Darker nights mythical weathers patch, werewolf retexture 2k glowing eyes

The name is a nom de guerre that means "the greedy one". Her father commanded a pirate fleet based on Stros M'kai and she was supposed to follow in his footsteps. Instead filled with patriotic zeal, she and her followers travelled to southern Hammerfell, to the frontier of Thalmor-controlled territory where guerilla warfare against the Dominion is ongoing. Being unskilled in land-based warfare, her band was ambushed and wiped out, the Thalmor taking no prisoners. Avarica was the only one to escape. With the Thalmor on her heels she crossed into Cyrodil and hence into Skyrim planning to return to Stros M'kai by boat. Instead she was arrested by the Imperials and taken to Helgen.

She escaped Helgen with Ralof planning to join Ulfric Stormcloak's uprising against the Empire, but changed her mind when seeing the overt racism in Windhelm. So far she has not joined up with the Imperials either. Most of her time is spent plundering dungeons to increase her fortune. Captured arms, however, will often be collected as trophies, by no means only unique named items.

Having grown up amongst pirates she kills and steals without remorse, getting frequently into trouble with the law. Thalmor are engaged with extreme prejudice. As child of the sea, she prefers the lakes and the coasts of Skyrim to the woods and forests, she likes to drop her arms and armour to go for a recreational swim. She also prefers seafood to venison or beef, stopping to fish whenever the opportunity presents itself. Before exploring a dungeon she'll eat a bowl of crab stew to keep herself powered.

Mods shown: tournaments of ten bloods, swf umbra armor- it’s a armor replacer for the ebony mail and it’s light armor, mythical weathers, Bella beauty bundle, Skyland aio, dark Forrest, maris flora, mofumofu animation, Verolevi aio, realistic melee range, frozen electrocuted combustion, there will be blood dark texture, realistic death sounds,wildcat, valrvan, immersive movement,faction gear swf,enhanced npcs,npc drink potions, better combat ai, giant variants,real collision,TDG blocking enhanced,dynamic lighting, jaysepra npc taunt

𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙠, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚.

𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚—𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙣…

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“𝙎𝙤,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮, 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡. “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮. “𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢.”

𝘼 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢,” 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮, “𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙙.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮, 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚. 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙. “𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡. 𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧. 𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙘𝙮.”

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡𝙨… 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙨.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡—

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.

“𝘼 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣,” 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮. “𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙨.”

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠.

𝙐𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.

𝘽𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜—𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚. 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“𝘼 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙜𝙚,” 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙙. “𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢. 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙙. “𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚?”

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚.

“𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, “𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙪𝙭𝙪𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙙.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙𝙡𝙮, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙—𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮.

𝙁𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙠, 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡.

𝘼 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩-𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙮.

𝙋𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚, 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙝𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙.

“𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪,” 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧. “𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙧… 𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨.

𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩.

𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙚.

𝘼𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚.

𝙎𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢.

𝘽𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙬—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚?”

“𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙. “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤’𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘’𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙,” 𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮, “𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩, 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝.

“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢.”

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣.

𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙉𝙮𝙭.

𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙—

𝙃𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙩-𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙟𝙖𝙬 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.

𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙.

𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙.

𝙐𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙘’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣.

“𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙. “𝙎𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙢 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝. 𝙐𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮.”

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙—

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚.

𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙬.

hi everybody, everything's in the titles, i want to share with you here my seventh skyrim character rp background (a new one i made recently), she's a 35-years-old wandering breton mercenary named Maria.

similar to all the previous ones, this character is inspired by one of the characters from an original medieval dark fantasy story i write on my free time and that i have recreate in Skyrim, so the first and second screens are her in skyrim and the last one is a more accurate version to how i imagine her looking in my story.

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My character is a 35-year-old Breton mercenary named Maria.

She was born in the Imperial City in Cyrodiil in 4E 166 to an Imperial father and a Breton mother. There, she spent a normal childhood, alternating between learning diplomacy from her mother who served as a diplomat in the Imperial government and learning combat techniques from her father, a former mercenary. This life continued until around 4E 174, when Thalmor forces attacked the Imperial City during the Great War, forcing her and her parents to flee.

Tragically, while she was in the cart preparing to escape with them and a group of other survivors, they were discovered by Thalmor soldiers. Realizing there was no one to protect them since the legion was busy fighting the thalmor inside the city and that they could not outrun their pursuers, her father jumped from the cart and engaged the Thalmor soldiers in combat, buying enough time for his wife, his daughter, and the others to get away. He succeeded, but Maria witnessed him being killed by a Thalmor soldier just before the cart disappeared from view.

Afterward, Maria and her mother went to live with a cousin of hers in the Skyrim countryside. From that day on, Maria harbored a visceral hatred for the Thalmor; this drove her, upon turning fifteen in 4E 181, to ask her mother to find someone to train her in combat. Although initially reluctant, she eventually agreed and hired several mercenaries and weapons masters to train her (including a Nord mercenary named Gudmundr, who regularly come to taught her combat and weapon skills over the course of two years, always accompanied by his adopted son, William)

Maria continued to live with her mother, taking care of her while perfecting her combat skills, until her mother died of illness in 4E 191. At the age of twenty-five, Maria buried her mother and left Skyrim to travel across Tamriel, fighting the Thalmor wherever she found them.

During the events of the game, she was tracking a Thalmor patrol near the Skyrim border and succeeded in killing them; however, she found herself caught in a skirmish between Imperial and Stormcloak forces while fleeing the scene of the assassination (rp justification for why the character start in a cart on the way to the chopping block).

In terms of gear, Maria wears a steel soldier armor, nordic steel gauntlets and iron plate boots from the creation club to give her the look of a wandering mercenary (as well as trying to stay as close as possible design wise to the character in the 3rd screen). Her primary weapons are an iron sword and iron shield. As a Breton, she possesses a natural affinity for magic as well and used few Alteration spells (Iron body and Candlelight) Destruction spells (a basic lightning spell) and healing spell in addition of her martial skills.

In terms of personality, Maria is someone serious, honest, and level-headed, she's very direct and a bit cold and harsh toward peoples but demonstrating a strong sense of honor toward the few peoples she trust and befriended. However, she is not naive and can be ruthless if anyone attempts to trap, rob, or scam her.

As for the rest of the roleplay, here is how I intend to approach the major quests.

Regarding the main quest, same as with all my other characters, i prioritize it because after all it makes sense that, given the extreme threat Alduin poses, Maria would make eliminating him her top priority before he can fully regain his strength and destroy the world.

Regarding the Imperial-Stormcloak war, as a wandering mercenary, Maria initially not truly take a side; instead, she will performed various tasks for both the Stormcloaks (such as solving the Windhelm murders or eliminating bandits for the Great War veteran) and the Imperials (such as killing thieves for the Solitude executioner or wiping out the Dark Brotherhood for Commander Maro at Dragon Bridge). Eventually, however, she will side with the Stormcloaks, driven by resentment toward the Imperials for attempting to execute her despite her name not being on their list and by the fact that the Empire is weakened and compromised by the presence of Thalmor spies within its ranks.

As for the Companions, Maria will join their ranks, initially out of curiosity, believing she could acquire new skills and become even more formidable in addition of gaining comrades-in-arms. Later, upon learning that some members are werewolves, she will choose to become one herself, seeing it as an opportunity to grow stronger.

Regarding the Dark Brotherhood: as mentioned earlier, after agreeing to eliminate Grelod for Aventus Aretino, seeing how extremely toxic and violent she was toward the orphans, Maria is approached by Astrid. However, faced with Astrid's demand, and recalling the name found on the notes carried by the assassins who had repeatedly tried to kill her in the past (which is the same), she chooses to kill Astrid instead. She then proceeds to wipe out the Dark Brotherhood in exchange for a substantial reward from Commander Maro.

Regarding the Thieves Guild: since Maria is a rather honest person, she will not join the guild and therefore will not doing their quests.

Regarding the College of Winterhold quests, Maria initially come to the academy to find an Elder Scroll needed to stop Alduin. After discovering a Thalmor agent within the College, she plans to return after defeating Alduin to kill the agent; however, she finds herself unwillingly drawn into the main plot when a monk from the Psijic Order appears.

Regarding the Daedric Prince and Divine quests, wary of the dangers inherent in being beholden to such entities, Maria only undertakes quests that begin as mundane tasks (such as those for Clavicus Vile or Sanghin), where we didn't expect a Daedric Prince or Divine being behind.

Regarding Dawnguard and Serana, there is nothing particular to add, other than the fact that she joins the Dawnguard because she refuses to become a vampire.

What do you think of her ?

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙢𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙮 𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮—𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙛𝙪𝙡.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙… 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚—𝙡𝙤𝙬, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮—𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨. 𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚.

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙, 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣.

𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙.

𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙜𝙚.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡—

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩, 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩… 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩.

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚…

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣.

𝘼 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧. 𝘼 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚. 𝙒𝙚𝙖𝙠—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩.

“𝙄’𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪.”

𝘼𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧—𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙩.

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧.

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮.

𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪…

𝘼 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝.

…𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘾𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬—

𝙇𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥.

𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩—𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩… 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙢—

𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚…?

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

𝙎𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩.

“…𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚,” 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙, 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.

𝙊𝙗𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨.

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙙.

𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙟𝙖𝙬 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙. “𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙.”

𝘼 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣—

“𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢?”

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣—

𝘾𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙, 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮—

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.

𝙐𝙣𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣.

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙣𝙤𝙬.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬—

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢. 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚—𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨.

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩, 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢—𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚… 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

“𝙉𝙮𝙭…” 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙡𝙤𝙬, 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠.

𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢—𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙.

𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙—

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚—𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙—

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙙.

𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢—

𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝.

“𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?”

𝘼 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚.

𝘼 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛—𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪.”

𝙎𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚.

𝙐𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙟𝙖𝙬—𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣,” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧.

“𝙒𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚—

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣—

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩.

𝙉𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙩…

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚—𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝.

𝘼 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚.

𝘿𝙚𝙚𝙥.

𝘼𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩… 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

“𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪?” 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙, 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩.

𝘼 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙.

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙪𝙣.

𝙏𝙤 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩—𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙. 𝙄𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣—

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙.

𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

“𝙁𝙪𝙨…”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙.

“𝙍𝙤…”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙, 𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣.

“𝘿𝘼𝙃!”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩.

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙.

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮.

𝙐𝙣𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙯𝙚𝙣, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙡𝙮, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

“…𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩… 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩?” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣—

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬.

𝘼 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙮𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡.

𝘿𝙤𝙫𝙖𝙝𝙠𝙞𝙞𝙣.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙩.

𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨.

𝙒𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚—

𝘼 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙃𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙜𝙖𝙧, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚—𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧, 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚, 𝙟𝙖𝙬 𝙨𝙚𝙩.

“…𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮. “𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.”

𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢, 𝙪𝙣𝙬𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮,” 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙, 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜. “𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙄𝙩’𝙨… 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧.”

𝘼 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣—

“𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣,” 𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙. “𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣?”

“𝙄𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨,” 𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙, “𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚… 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙡𝙮.

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮, 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚. “…𝘽𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧?”

𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙤𝙫𝙖𝙝𝙠𝙞𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙. “𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬. 𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨… 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙧.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩.

“𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚.”

𝘼𝙧𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙞𝙧’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚.

“𝙉𝙤,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙. “𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣.”

𝘼 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧—

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡.”

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩—

𝙃𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

Race: Orc, Dovahkiin, Werewolf

Personality: Loud and proud when drinking in taverns. A loyal friend to those she cares for. Although can use magic and has learned a few spells, Dracoz prefers weapons, wether combat archery from afar or close quarters combat with sword and claw.

A hunter and berserker on the battlefield, either downing enemies by the dozens from afar with her dragon bone bow, and elemental fire, or ice arrows Dracoz crafts herself. Or closing the distance with whirlwind sprint, and falling to her natural orc berserk rage with two handed dragon bone weapons. Further when truly enraged in combat, shifts to her werewolf form, while embracing her Dovah spirit by using dragon aspect to rip and tear her enemies. Summoning a pack of werewolves she as the champion of Hircine commands to slaughter her foes.

Favorite Shouts: Dragon Aspect, Unrelenting Force, Fire Breath, Ice Breath, Whirlwind Sprint.

Ella stormed into the Arch-mage’s office, fury burning in her amber eye. She demanded to see Ancano. The Arch-mage was taken aback by this sudden outburst, asking what was the matter. Ella told the Arch-mage that Ancano was planning to destroy the College and that he must be dealt with immediately. The Arch-mage, who she thought to be a wise man, told her to check her temper, that Ancano would do no such thing. He claimed that Ancano had already, in fact left the College on important business. The Arch-mage told Ella that if anything should happen to Ancano upon his return, expulsion would be the least of her worries. Ella, searing with anger, stormed from the office, blades of fire forming in her hands. She didn’t care, the elf must die.

In the main hall, she found her quarry. The pompous elf had just returned. Ella approached him, blades burning with her hatred, ready to strike, but Thogra held her back, and so the elf passed her by, a smug look twisting his face as he glanced at her. Ella rounded on Thogra, flames of her blade scorching Thogra’s leather cuirass. She demanded to know why she held her back. Thogra, ever stoic and strong in the face of threat, calmly explained that Ella shouldn’t strike out in anger, that if the elf was really danger, he would show his hand soon. Thogra also said that she would prefer Ella to remain alive, after all, she swore to protect Ella, even if it was from herself. Sofia didn’t share that sentiment however, and was rather disappointed that Ella didn’t charbroil the haughty Thalmor. Ella relinquished her blades, letting the flames die. She did however warn Thogra to never, ever interfere with her business again in such a manner.

Ella then sought out Mirabelle, as she was the next highest ranking staff member beside the Arch-mage. In Mirabelle’s quarters, she told Mirabelle what the Auger had told her, and asked if she know anything about the Staff of Magnus. Mirabelle told her that it was an artifact of tremendous power, or so they say, as many a mage has claimed such things if their creations. She said that while she didn’t know where to find it, there were some who did. Mirabelle told her that a group of Synod researchers had visited the College and had mentioned it, as they were in search of it themselves. They were said to be visiting the ancient dwarven city of Mzulft on a research expedition. Mirabelle then gave Ella a ring. She explained that Ella, having passed her classes so far, as well as assisting in the research of the Eye of Magnus, was now allowed to use the teleportation orbs in the upper floor of the staff dorms. She told Ella that Riften was the closest city to the dwarven city and to use the orb to reach it far faster than she would on foot. She then wished Ella luck, and to remember that she was representing the College.

Ella made her way upstairs but was stopped by Arniel Gane. He overheard she was on her way to a dwarven city and thus asked her for a favor. He said he was working on some very important research on the dwarves and thus needed some artifacts to work on. If she was willing to bring back 10 cogs, he would reward her and let her in on his research. Ella said she would do her best, but made no promises, as she had never been to a dwarven city before and had no idea what’s “cog” even was. She then reached the teleportation orb and was transported to Riften.

The smell of fish hit her before the teleportation had finished. Even in the graveyard, where the orb hand brought her and her companions, she could smell the docks over the sickly sweet scent of nightshade and deathbell. She walked through the market, hoping to acquire some supplies for their journey, when she was stopped by a rather handsome nord called Brynjolf. He said he could help her make some easy coin, but Ella brushed past him. Sofia on the other hand, took her place and started to chat up and flirt with Brynjolf. After Ella and Thogra had secured some supplies, a commotion drew their attention. It was Brynjolf, he was advertising his product called the “Falmer Blood Elixir.” As he raved about the wonderful properties of his product, Ella noticed Sofia fumbling behind one of the stall vendors, as its merchant was currently distracted by Brynjolf’s loud advertising. When Ella approached her and cleared her throat, Sofia jumped and a small ring dropped from her hands and rolled away, dropping down a nearby grate into the sewer below with a soft plop.

Sofia froze, staring openly at the grate like it was a portal straight to Oblivion before calmly standing, and marching off to the nearest tavern, shoulders shaking. Thogra went after her as to keep her out of trouble. Ella, know alone, turned her eye to Mistveil Keep. She decided to visit her old teacher.

Ella found Wylandriah pondering in her lab, staring absentmindedly at the enchanting table. When Ella greeted her, Wylandriah broke from her contemplations and looked at Ella like she had grown a three heads. After a moment, she recognized Ella and asked her if she could assist her with an experiment. It seems she never realized Ella had ever left. Typical. After assisting Wylandriah in mixing ice wraith teeth, glow dust, and ectoplasm in an effort to conjure an ice wraith, and succeeding in a mouse sized version, she asked how Wylandriah had faired since Ella left. Wylandriah, oblivious to Ella having ever left, simply asked what she was talking about, before proceeding to chase after the loose miniature wraith before it escaped to the main hall of the keep.

Thogra burst in a moment later, out of breath. She told Ella to come quick. Ella rushed after her without a word, as Thogra wasn’t one to panic. She followed Thogra into the Honor Hall Orphanage. Apparently Sofia had gotten drunk after her failed attempt at thievery and had started an argument with the headmistress of the orphanage after wandering in and attempting to adopt a child. Ella and Thogra entered that main room just in time to hear Sofia call the headmistress a horker before hurling a tankard of mead at the old woman’s head. The old woman collapsed dead on the floor. Ella and Thogra looked at Sofia in shock, while the children cheered, praising someone called Aventus and the Dark Brotherhood. What had Sofia just gotten themselves into?

Last Image is a Art Commission of my Character (Brenepls)

Andralia Volkihar OC Lore

Name: Andralia Volkihar
Race: Altmer, Dovahkiin, Vampire Lord

Personality: Warm and friendly towards those she actually trusts, like her sister figure Serana Volkihar, or her dunmer wife the mercenary Jenassa. Andralia though, is cold and ruthless towards enemies and indifferent towards the population of Skyrim, seeing them as cattle to state her vampiric appetite and power.

Andralia after fleeing the Summerset Isle from Thalmor prosecution due to her non perfect Altmer looks (Ebony hair, cat green eyes) and the slaughter of her family crossed the border into Skyrim. She after becoming Dragonborn, further looked for more power for her revenge, after clashing with the Thalmor once more early on her adventure as Dragonborn. And find it she did, when she become a vampire when fighting them as a member of the Dawnguard. It wasn’t enough, so she further dove into more power upon accepting the might of a Vampire Lord from Harkon. After overthrowing him and becoming the head of the Volkihar clan, and Andralia continues adventuring across Skyrim with her best friend and sister figure Serana Volkihar.

She has vanquished Alduin who she saw as a rival to her growing nature as Dovahkiin, letting they civil war rage on while purposefully rising through the ranks of the Imperial Legion. Only she uses the Empire to her own ends, her status as Legate and Dragonborn to influence Tulius to her own lust for power. Or, she uses her position as Leader of the Dark Brotherhood to sow discord. Even further throwing chaos down on the Empire after her assassination of the. Emperor. Andralia also just kills any she comes across in the wilds and roads of Skyrim leaving no survivors. Meanwhile she wipes out both Imperial and Stormcloak patrols and camps to further weaken both sides as her vampire lord to further her blood drunk vampiric power.

She has slaughtered all the Thalmor and their First Emissary Elenwen as her vampire lord form. Often flexing her power when hungry, by slaughtering and gorging herself on scores of guards in towns like Solitude or Winterhold. Stating her vampiric appetite, feasting and gaining more power though rivers of blood she drinks from her prey. Andralia is a true master of Destruction, Alteration, Illusion, and Conjuration Magic. She has also dabbled in Restoration as well. Using it to further her vampiric powers as a necromage vampire. Often in combat she transforms into her vampire lord form descending on foes as a swarm of bats knocking them down. Then activating her enhanced reflexes, and clawing apart or blasting said enemies with vampiric drain spheres and tossing others around like ragdolls with vampiric grip spells. All the while a cloud of bats orbits her disturbingly powerful form draining the life of enemies around her.

Andralia enjoys calling upon the might of Destruction and casting spells like Lightning Storm, Blizzard, Ice Storm, Elemental Blast, Unbound Storm, Chain Lighting, and Fire Storm etc. Or, summoning whole armies of Deadra and the dead, like Skeleton Warlocks, Death Priests, and Bone Colossuses under her mastery of Conjuration. Another summon Andralia calls forth is the undead Dovah Durnehviir. Her power of Conjuration is further focused by the Atherial Crown she wears upon her head. When hungry Andralia seduces her enemies with her vampire seduction prowess, often feeding on said prey, draining their blood before slitting her meal’s throat with a dagger. She also enjoys turning bandits against each other with her mastery of magics of the mind, sitting back in the shadows on occasion and enjoying watching said foes descend into madness as they slaughter each other. Then picking off the survivors through stealth or brute force, skill, and speed.

Her favorite shouts she uses are Whirlwind Sprint, Elemental Fury, and Slow time, to further increase her already superhuman speed, then moves into combat like a blur. Her weapons in hand like Dragonbane, and a Deadric or Ebony dagger, a whirlwind of violence slashing throats, and cutting down her enemies to fast for mortals to react to. Other shouts she enjoys are Storm Call, and cyclone combined with lightning Storm to destroy whole armies of enemies. Or she uses one of her favorite spells as a Vampire Lord, vampiric grip and flings enemies from afar. Slowing down time with a shout and smiting them out of mid air as her Altmer form with fire ball, or lightning bolt.

𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆—𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉, 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌.

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾… 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍.

𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗌.

𝖨𝖿 𝖨’𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.

𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋.

𝙍𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙. 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧, 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣… 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙨.

𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙩—

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙.

𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡. 𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝.

𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙪𝙥𝙩.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.

𝘼 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚.

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙙.

𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙.

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚.

“𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨?” 𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣.

“…𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮.”

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙠 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨. “𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙜𝙤.”

“𝙉𝙤,” 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮. “𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚—𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮.

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚.

“𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨. 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩…” 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙. “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤?”

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚.

“𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.”

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙩, 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚.

𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩—

𝙉𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙉𝙮𝙭.

—

𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩… 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙙. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙧.

𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

“𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪?” 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨, 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬—𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙.

𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

𝙉𝙤 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙. 𝙉𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪,” 𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙.

“𝘼𝙮𝙚,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. “𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.”

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙—𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬, 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚.

“𝘿𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.”

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚.

𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙙.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙧.

“𝙉𝙤.”

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩—𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

“𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙,” 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨.

𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡.

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠.

𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩,” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮.

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛’𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮. “𝘼𝙢 𝙄?”

“𝙔𝙚𝙨.”

𝘼 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩.

“𝙇𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙙.”

𝙃𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝, 𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩.

“𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚, 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙬𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚.”

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙.

𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙—𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧.

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮.

“𝙎𝙤 𝙄’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙙.”

𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧—𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡.

𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙣.

“𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙚𝙩,” 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚, “𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙖𝙢.”

𝙉𝙮𝙭’𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚.

“𝙔𝙚𝙨.”

𝘼 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧—

“𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚.”

𝙉𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙.

𝙉𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙍𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩—

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙.

𝙉𝙤 𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.

𝙉𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙬𝙖𝙮.