Backstory: Althor Hegin (Nord Warrior)

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    There is quite a bit and I didn't pay too much attention to the grammar so bear with me. Tell me what you think!

     

    Born in Granitehall in the area of Whiterun, Althor was always a stout and quick-witted Nord. From the time he was born people have told him he would grow up to do great things. Though he was strong, Althor spent a lot of time in Granitehall's library. Burying himself in historical books, he was fascinated with the history of Tamriel.  Criticism was taken for being both strong and smart, but over time, he had learned to contain his anger, somewhat. When he wasn't at the library he was helping his mother with anything he could. His father had left when he was just a child and Althor was the man of the house for as long as he could remember. On certain days his mother would find him practicing sword fighting on dummies behind the house, while on other days he would be gone hunting for food to bring home. One day he awoke knowing it was his time to prove himeself to Kyne, he took his belongings: his steel shortsword (a virgin blade given to him on the day of his birth), a pack with scarse rations and a bit of gold, and the leather clothing and hooded cloak on his back. At the age of nineteen, he left a weeping mother and his humble home and set forth to bring honor to his name. He had always known what he had wanted to do, yet he told nobody. He wanted to become an Imperial guard and knew where he would start this journey.


    He traveled for weeks alongside a caravan, picking up many survival skills along the way, until he reached the town of Chorrol; there he bade his goodbyes and found his way to the local tavern. When he entered all sound was whisked out the door behind him and all eyes gazed upon him. He quietly walked towards the innkeeper being careful not to make eye contact with any patrons and politely asked for a room. "You got a lot of nerve showing up alone after what you and your friends did," the man croaked. "What do you mean?" asked Althor. "Look at him play stupid!," the man announced to everyone, "Let's see if we can beat some sense back into him." All of the people in the tavern were soon circling him and Althor slowly grasped his leather sword handle. Suddenly a sound cracked the tense air and smoke was everywhere. "He's using magic! Try and get him!" a voiced yelled. A hand grasped the back of Althor's shirt and he was pulled away from the blind brawl.


    A slit of sunlight caused Althor to open his eyes. "By the Nine you're heavy. How much do you eat?" he heard a voice chuckle. Althor quickly found his sword next to where he was laying and put it to the shadowy man's neck. "Woah! I'm sorry I was only joking!" the man quickly said. Althor's eyes had adjusted to the light and he soon found himself in what looked like an old, cob-web filled room. His eyes then fell upon the small, old man he was holding a blade to. "I'm sorry I just don't know whats going on." he said to the man. "Well we should get you up to speed than shouldn't we?" the man chuckled again, "first let's get some drinks. Belena! Could you bring us some tea please?" A door in the ground that Althor hadn't realized was there opened and he realized he was being kept in an attic. A young Breton woman came out of the door and replied, "Yes father, what kind?" Althor looked and noticed that the man was also Breton. The man thought, "Hmm, Alkanet please; that Foxglove was a bit strong. What do you want sir, wait, I don't even know your name. May I ask what it is?" "I am Althor Hegin," he informed the man, "Any tea will do, thank you." "Aha well aren't you polite," laughed the man, "I'm Geryl and this is my daughter Belena." Althor looked towards the door, but the young girl was gone; probably gone to get the tea. She quickly returned and Althor soon learned the reasoning behind his unsuspected ambush.


    Recently a gang of Nords have been terrorizing the town of Chorrol with frequent attacks. They were supposedly led by a man hailing from Skyrim. Many of the guards were held up with keeping the town under control so nobody could do anything about the man. "I can help," Althor quickly responded. "Haha! You? You could barely hold your own in a tavern fight and now you think you can take down a gang. True they are reckless and stupid, but they're still killers and they will cut you to bits without a doubt," Geryl told him sternly. "Where do they hide?" Althor question. Silence took over the room and the man slowly responded, "I have seen them walking to an odd looking, hollowed-out tree trunk a throwing stone's distance from town. I will show you, but will only go so far."


    The next morning Althor grabbed his sword and pack, said farewell to Belena, and headed out with Geryl. Just as he had said, they stumbled upon the eery looking tree trunk. They crouched down behind a fallen log and Althor inspected the wierd structure. He followed the moss going down the trunk until his eyes reached the openening just big enough for a being to fit through. There he could just barely see the rusty, iron hinge of a door. "Well, this is as far as I go, good luck. May Talos watch over you," and just like that he trodded off back the Chorrol. Now Althor was on his own with many dangers ahead.


    Althor thought time was of the essence and stood up, but quickly dropped back down when a couple maurauders stumbled in from the West. They looked drunk and Althor's nerves relaxed. He slowly kept his distance and followed them to the trunk. As the door slowly creaked close, he slipped in at the last moment making little to no noise. He found himself in a cavernous hallway lit by torches leading to a wooden door. All of his skills from hunting back home came into play, but as Althor stepped forward he realized that he had always had a problem stalking his prey and when he stepped a few small, dirt pebbles chrunched under his worn, leather boots. They were only a few, but just enough to cause the three leather-clad bandits to turn around. Althor was clumsy, but quick. After making the noise he had instantly spotted spacing in the side of the cavern and slipped behind it just in time to be unseen. The men were not this stupid though; they walked towards the noise and Althor's heart began to race. He had never killed another person before. What was he supposed to do? He realized he must be able to kill if he is to become an Imperial Guard and his mind became clear.


    With the mens footsteps nearing, he looked in front of him and spotted a hatchet lodged into a stump that he assumed was used to cut wood. He quietly stepped forward and dislodged it. With hatchet in his right hand and sword in his left, Althor was ready for the coming battle. Once he could hear the whisking of the bandits leather tunics against there bodies, all instinct came over. Althor turned the corner and quickly realized what he was up against. He spotted three Nords scarred and covered and dirt. His eyes locked with the one in the middle, much more musculur than the other too, and he calmy released the hatchet from his hand and watched it strike the man right in the forhead, releasing blood all over the other two. Aggressive, but weary, the other two came after him with cheap, wooden maces in their hands and simultaneously swung at him. Althor dodged to the left and ran for the hatchet in the man's head. He had his sword in his hand, but it was a virgin blade and it's first kill would be worthy. As soon as he took the hatchet out of the poor Nord's skull, one of the bandits came back at him with another swing and Althor interrupted his attack with a cleave right to the chest. The man was down in seconds and bled out after a few more seconds. Althor looked at the last man and saw his eyes. They were empty and black; drained of all emotion except one, fear. Althor took the hatchet and drove it right into the mans neck and let him fall to his knees. "How many others are there!" he yelled at the man, "You'll have to find out now wont you?" the man gasped before collapsing.


    Althor took back his new blood-soaked weapon and headed to the wooden door. He slowly opened it and was surprised to see that it was just one big room with a man sitting at a chair looking at him with an utterly surprised look on his face. "Are you the leader of this troublesome gang?" Althor questioned  the man. The man just stood there with the same dumbstruck expression. "I said are you-" just then the man melted away into a puddle as if he was an ice cube. As Althor realized magic was behind this a dagger flew out of the shadows and Althor ducked. He stood up and realized the dagger had stuck into the wall exactly where his head had been. Althor hated magic and always had. "Why are you doing this? You're a Nord why not join our little 'organization' hmm?" the mysterious voice asked. He then appeared; first, as a gust of smoke, then a man wearing a white robe with long, dark hair was formed in front of Althor. "No? Fine," and then he pulled out a sword and attemped to stab Althor, but Althor was quicker and moved to the side. He stood back and prepared himself for the tough battle he was about to face. The man recovered and shot small balls of fire from his hands. Althor moved out the way of the flaming projectiles and discovered his tactic. He needed to get in close so that the mage was restricted to using his sword. He charged the man, but then was kicked in the chest and stumbled against the wall. The man closed in, ready to strike, but Althor took the dagger out of the wall and drove it deep into the mages thigh. He then followed up with elbowing the man in the face and he fell to the ground. "A Nord mage? You disappoint your race you fool!" Althor said. Then he took out his sleek, silver blade and raised it up above the man. Then he drove it straight through the man's chest and he was dead instantly. Althor was overjoyed for his weapon and returned it into its sheath on his back. The mage's robes were now blood-red and Althor decided to search him for proof of his death and if he was lucky, loot. He found a locket with the man's name engraved onto it and a key to a chest.


    After a quick search of the room he found the chest under the desk and he slipped the key into the rusty, red lock. He turned it and was relieved to hear the lock click. He had the correct key. He opened the chest and his breath was taken away. Inside was a set of shiny, brand new steel armor. He quickly took off his old, cracked leather armor and put the new protection on his body. He then returned his old, hooded cloak to his back and put the hatchet into a sheath on his thigh. Althor quickly took the bit of gold he could find and left with the locket still in his hand.


    He returned to town, made his was back to Geryl's store and found the man busy at work.  "I have returned successful," Althor said smiling. "Oh my..." was all Geryl could get out before he whisked Althor outside and yelled to the whole town, "This man has gotten rid of the Nordic gang terrorizing this town!" Althor was surprised as a whole group of citizens gathered in front of the shop cheering him on. More and more people came and the yelling and thanking didn't settle down one bit. After awhile a few gaurds walked up and the crowd calmed down. "So it was you who stopped the gang?" they said to Althor. "Yes," Althor responded. "Very well, come with us," they said and they directed him back to the castle. Once inside he was led towards the throne to the countess of Chorrol, but was steered to the right and taken to the barracks. There he met the guard captain and what he was told next made his heart race.


    "We need more men like you," the captain said. "For the guard?" Althor asked. "No, I mean Cyrodil needs more men like you. You would really bring power to the Legion," the man told him. "The Imperial Legion?" Althor could barely make out sentences. "Of course! I will send word to the captain and I will have a horse ready to take you to  the Imperial City." the man informed him. Althor couldn't believe what he was hearing. His name would soon be a name of honor just like he had wanted.


    Althor spent that night at Geryl's shop and said his goodbyes the next morning. He left Chorrol through the town gates and sure enough there was a horse ready for him at the stables. When he arrived at Imperial City he made his way to the barracks being sure to keep his head down and speak to no one. He had heard stories of the city during his travels with the caravan and few of them ended well.


    After arriving at the barracks, Althor was soon established into the ranks of the Imperial Legion as a private; this did not last long, though, as Althor was an excellent warrior. It was tough in the beginning. At first, Althor rarely spent time outside of Imperial City and his assignments mainly dealt with finding lost pets and arresting drunks and beggars. He was not alone, though. During this time Althor acquired a strong friendship with an Imperial named Theren. Soon the Legion realized the hard work that these two were doing and they soon flew up the ranks. Also during this time, Althor had taken a favor of fighting with a shield; with which he had never done before. After a little less than a year of hard work both, Althor and Theren's days included clearing out bandit gangs and hunting down escaped prisoners. Another thing included in Althor's day was praying to the gods. Every night he would say a prayer asking for his mother to stay protected and in good health. He then would go to sleep immediatly after.


    On one certain day their general approached them. "You guys really are showing Cyrodil what the Legion can do. Take this," he said and gave them a piece of paper. Little did they know until that night in the barracks, this letter told them that it was time for them to become generals themselves. The next day they reported to the generals' quarters and were happily promoted. Althor and Theren were then told to report to a local in near Leyawiin for their first assignment. So the next morning they set off to an even bigger chapter in their lives.


    For the next year Althor and Theren became very respectable generals. When people saw the two walking towards them, they stood up straight as can be. They glowed with all of the medals that they have earned. These two seemed to be troubleless, but trouble they did have. In their platoon was a dark elf named Danthrel; a hot-headed battlemage who didn't like taking orders. It seemed as if there was a problem with him every assignment they went on. One day he was almost "purposely" clumsy and almost got Althor slaughtered by a group of theives. When the fighting was over and everyone was ok, the two began yelling at each other. The fighting became violent and Althor ended up headbutting Danthrel in the head before Theren broke them up. This arguing continued through the next few weeks, but, when asked to, Danthrel refused to switch platoons.


    One morning Althor and Theren's platoon was called upon and began gearing up to go arrest some goons terrorizing some local fisherman. While walking out of the city he heard word that the town of Chorrol was under attack by a group of bandits and was in urgent need of help.  He turned his men around and asked one of his Commanders if they had heard word of this. They replied saying that the town guards would handle it. "Sir, people are saying that men and women are being slaughtered. When I stopped that gang years ago the guards could barely fight off a troublemaking gang. The town will not survive!" Althor told him. "At ease soldier! You have your orders. Now follow them." the man ordered him. Althor could not beleive this and stormed off with this platoon. He commanded the group to set out on their horses and after a few minutes they arrived in Chorrol.


    Their ears filled with clashing metal and screaming. They opened the gate and charged in slicing down any enemies in their path. Althor's men didn't know where to go, but Althor did. He ran straight towards Geryl's shop to see if he and Belena were alright. As they approached he notice the building was in flames. He told a few of his men to guard the front of the building and he, Theren, Danthrel, and a Kahjit entered. They went inside and saw nobody. The group quickly sprinted up to the attic and what Althor saw took all of the courage out of his body. He looked and both Belena and Geryl crushed under two fallen pillars. Geryl's body was covered in blood from the impact, but when Theren was inspecting Belena he discovered that she was still alive; only unconcious. "Althor the woman is still alive!" he yelled. The group began to pick up the pillar with ease, but, suddenly, a bandit came out of the smoke from the flames. He did not resist stabbing the Kahjit in the back and he dropped. The pillar now pushed down harder on the three men. The bandit then quickly pulled Theren and held him against the wall with his sword to his neck. Only Danthrel and Althor remained and the weight was almost unbearable. As Theren struggled with the bandit Althor and Danthrel locked eyes. Althor expected to see  repent and apology in the elf's red eyed, but instead he saw pure hatred. "That gang that you killed in this very town so long ago,"  Danthrel yelled over the roaring of the flames," My parents died when I was young and a Nord took me under his guidance. That Nord was the very Nord that you so violently killed while I was out getting supplies." The dark elf's face was full of sorrow before he reared it into a twisted, nasty smile and darted out of the house. "No!" Althor yelled. He stumbled with the pillar, but braced himself and brought in all of his strength and threw it to the side. Then he turned around, pulled out his trusty hatchet, and struck it right into the bandit's skull, freeing Theren. "Can you beleive Danthrel?" Theren said panting. "No, but I am not worried about him. This woman needs help," Althor said as he lifted her up and headed downstairs and out of the building. The fighting had stopped and he came outside into the moonlit town and his men were gone. Theren looked dumbfounded "Where did they-?" "Went back to the barracks. They didn't want to get in trouble," Althor interrupted. "You see, I've realized the fault of the Legion. They work on the clock and for the gold. Do you think a soldier would wake up at 2am to go catch a theif? No they would not." The conversation ended and there was silence all the way to the infirmary.


    Belena awakened the next morning with minor burns and cuts. Both Althor and Theren had spent the night at the infirmary with her to see it through that she was okay. After she had been awake for awhile they let her know what happened about her dad. "Do you have somewhere to stay?" Althor asked her. "Yes, my uncle has a house in Bruma that I will be able to stay at. Thank you again for saving me. I'm sorry I dont have anything to offer." she replied. "There is no reward needed. You two had gotten me out of some trouble quite a bit ago and now I have repaid you." he gladly told her, "Now we must get back to Imperial City and attend to some 'business'." Althor and Theren said farewell to Belena, walked out of the building and out of the city gates, mounted their horses, and took of, unsure of what was ahead.


    When they arrived at the barracks three things happened. The commanders told them that Danthrel had disappeared in the midst of the night and the commanders stripped Althor and Theren of their ranks and medals for disobeying orders; this they expected. But what they were told next they didn't see coming. The commanders believed that they should still stay in the Legion but start back up from the bottom rank of private. "We will not! You think we want to stay with you filthy pigs when you only work where it benefits you?" Althor yelled at them. "Watch it Nord, I can throw you in a cell instantly," a commander told him sternly,"Now collect your things and leave at once," and just like that Althor and Theren took their equipment and left the Imperial Legion; ready to start something of their own.


    Althor and Theren were both generals in the Legion and lived in the barracks, so gold was not a problem. They stayed at the Two Sisters Inn in Skingrad night after night. Most people thought they were just nobodys wasting their time away at the tavern, but they had a plan and they have had this plan ever since they were privates in the Legion. While staying at the inn they were trying to recruit. They were planning on making their own group of mercenaries who fought off crimes for the good of Cyrodil, not for money or respect. They put up flyers around the town, being careful not to let the guards see them, and once they were contacted by someone wanting to join they added them to a roster. After weeks of hard work they held a piece of parchment with twenty names scribbled onto it. They were ready to begin, but, first, they needed to find a place; a headquarters. This was not hard to find as there was a farm for sale just North of Skingrad and they still had plenty of gold. Althor and Theren bought the deed for the farm the day they found out about it and  the next day they got everyone on the roster together and they were all moved in.


    And so Althor's life continued with this group of peacemakers for over a year until a thought occured to him. He was only 24 and had already fulfilled the excitement that he wanted in his life and brought honour to his name. It was time for him to settle down and make a family. He knew exactly who he was to marry. With a sad farewell to his now longtime friend, Althor gave complete control of the group to Theren. Then, clad in his shiny, steel armor and hooded cloak, he sheathed his trusty shortsword, hatchet, and shield and was off.


    A couple days' travel brought Althor to Bruma. He entered a small tavern and asked the guard if he knew a woman by the name of Belena. "Yes, she lives in a small shack right across the river near a tree." he answered. Althor then quickly crossed the bridge and found the shack that the innkeeper described. He knocked on the door and a Breton woman answered  the door; it was Belena.


    *


    Two years later Althor stood in Geryl's old shop in Chorrol that he had now bought and renovated holding his infant baby boy in his hands. His life was complete. What he had set out to do that day was all worth it. His wife, Belena, was very tired and he would let her sleep in this morning by taking the customers in the morning. An hour or two later she woke up and took their son from his hands. "Not very busy this morning?" she asked. "No, we haven't had and customers yet," he replied. This was wierd because ever since they bought the shop they were the busiest shop in town. Just then the first customer of the morning came in. He wasn't ready to buy, he had news to tell. "Althor, Althor! There were some traders out in the woods and a mage attacked them. One of them made it back to town to get help, but the other one's injured and needs help!" the young man told him. With his steel armor and hooded cloak equipped, Althor kissed his wife goodbye before grabbing his sword and running out to help. As soon as he left through the town gate he could see the shape of a man laying on the ground next to a wagon. He quickly ran up to the man. He was on his stomach covered in burn marks and laying in a pool of blood. Althor turned the man over to take a look at him and what he saw took all emotion from his body. It was Danthrel. "I'm back," he hissed before disappearing into a smoky cloud. Althor knew where he was going and sprinted back as fast as he could to the shop. He slammed his shoulder into the door and glanced at the massacre before him. His wife and baby boy lied dead before him on the ground. Danthrel stood over them "You killed someone close to me and now it was my turn!" he screamed. He stared into Althor's cold, empty eyes before rearing his face into that nasty smile that he gave to Althor so long ago before disappearing for the final time into a black cloud of smoke. Althor instantly dropped to his knees and yelled and cried over his dead family. After a few minutes, guards rushed into the house. "Is everything alright? We heard yelling-" they said before their eyes fell upon the body. "What has happened here?" they demanded. "A mage has brutally murdered my family and you've done NOTHING!" he screamed at them, "All you guards are the same," then Althor did something nobody saw coming. He flew into a rage and slaughtered the guards. He first kicked their kneecaps in, shattering them and dropping them to their knees before beheading both of them with his sword in two clean slices. He sheathed his weapon then hoisted his wife over his shoulder and took his son in his hand and ran from Chorrol. He made his way South of Chorrol into a wooded area with no conflict. It was there where he burned his wife and son's bodies and collected their ashes in a jar. He then laid on his back and stared up at the stars the whole night, questioning why the gods have done this to him.


    The next morning he set off with a plan ready in his mind. He had always told his family about the wonders of his homeland of Skyrim and he had planned on bringing them their in the future. Under the circumstances he thought it would be right to take their remains there. After traveling a week and a half's distance in a few days due to his determination and restistance to the cold he crossed the borders into Skyrim. He hadn't been here since he set off to bring himself honour and he wasn't returning for the same reason he had thought he would be. An hour's walk after crossing the border he found a mountain stream running under a bridge near a snow, lodge town. He walked to the top of the bridge and after a very long time he opened the jar and released the ashes into the water. His family was now a part of Skyrim. He looked to the left and became even more sadden. Wanted posters with his pictures had already spread into the land and people were beginning to notice that he was the same person as the man in the picture. A massive group of guards approached him and a thought raced through his head. He was done running. His family was at peace; that was all that mattered to him. The guards took him to jail and he was sentenced for life for murdering two guards and illegally crossing the border into Skyrim.