Freya - My Story

• Posted by Jack Craven March 20, 2013 - 1,014 views

  The name's Freya.

  My parents are dead, I'll tell you how.

  I was out exploring the forest near our house at night, it was probably around eight, the sun was setting and it was still warm, we live - well more liked lived now - in the southern holds of Skyrim. I spent the evening picking mushrooms and stalking deer, fox and rabbit for meat. I heard a howl that came from behind me, I would say around 100 feet. I rolled to the nearest tree and used it for cover, I peered round the corner and saw nothing, I snuck forward making sure I avoided anything lying on the floor that would give away my position to whatever was out there. I got to the area where I heard the howl and saw nothing, heard nothing. I waited around for several minutes at my position and then decided I would head back to our camp.

  I arrived back at camp to see our tents destroyed, blood was splattered everywhere... It was a horrible site, I saw arms and legs that had been torn off my families bodies. I searched around for anything of value to my family but found nothing, not even my mother's necklace... All I had on me was my bow, some arrows, mushrooms, an axe and some meat I had cut off of the deers.

  I wandered off into the wilderness wondering what to do. What made that noise? Did it kill my family? Was that just a coincidence and some bandits raided our camp?

  Now, let's lighten up the subject a bit shall we?

  I like bows, short ones and long ones... That came out slightly worse than I had imagined, anyway. I was trained to use the bow by my father, he always told me that it is better to kill your prey before it can even reach you. Mother taught me how to make poisons when just an arrow wasn't good enough, then there were the potions, they can heal you and make you far stronger, how I love potions. I've always worn fur armour since I was a young girl, I've slowly added to it with trinkets and woven in different types of hides to make it tougher, currently it's deer and fur pelt strapped together with strands of leather. So I suppose I can handle myself, or at least I hope I can.

  I've never really been into man cities so you could say I'm a tad of a social retard. Never had any friends since I've always been on the move with mother and father. I remember mother always said how cold I was, not quite sure if she was referring to my personality of temperature, still don't know... Looks like I never will. She said I had a bond with ice, all us Nords do though, I don't know why she made such a big deal out of it.

  I'm only a young girl... Just starting my life into young adulthood, and I'm all alone, funny isn't it? The time when I should be out slurping back great tankards of mead, and I'm here, without anyone.

  Talos guide you.

  I found a new area and managed to scrap together some leather and wood to turn into a camp, didn't think it was worth writing a new entry for.

  Talos guide you.

  Used some of the charcoal from the burnt wood to sketch into my journal. See above.