Skyrim, Dawnstar, 4 Era

A storm currently assaulting the town of Dawnstar, coming from the Sea of Ghosts. The snow was falling thick and fast, and any travellers from the road had quickly taken shelter in the Windpeak Inn, while Thoring gave out ale and and Karita tried to warm up everyone though song. As Abelone was throwing more wood on the fire, the door was thrown open again, much to the discomfort of those sitting near. A Nord staggered Inn, quickly shutting the door behind him. Shaking his hair to loosen the snow, the man made his way over to the bar where Thoring handed him an ale. "On the house. Can't have someone drop dead in here, would be a real damper, eh?"

"Hmm," the Nord muttered, pulling out the cork and taking a long swig. Thoring placed another few bottles on the counter, while try to start a conversation.

"This dahm storm seems like it comes from Atmora itself. At this rate I'll run out of drinks before it ends. Where are you from?"

"Whiterun." the Nord shook his cloak to remove more snow. "I'm heading to Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks."

"Alot of people are now a days," Thoring nodded, "The Imperials will soon have their hands full."

"Aye, but if what I've seen and heard is true, everyone is going to have their hands full."

Thoring frowned. "What?" The Nord, learning forwards, smiling with a glint in his eye.

"Rumor has it Helgan was destroyed. Apparently General Tullis was there, and he and his troops apparently ran all the way back to Solitude after. Ulfric was there as well, probably… er... scouting it out and he retreated around the same time as well. And a few weeks later, as I was leaving Whiterun I saw…. a Dragon!" Everyone in the Inn gasped, even the Altmer in the corner although that was because he had only just realised he was not, as he had been assured, drinking elf wine. The Nord continued, now addressing the whole inn. "It was attacking the old western watchtower. I kept my distance, but I saw a group of guards and a person I couldn't make out fighting it, and eventually they managed to kill it. Then I saw something really strange. The Dragon began to glow, then it released some energy which was absorbed by the person I couldn't properly see. I've only heard of one kind of person being able to do that, and thats… a Dragonborn!" Gasps all round, then an Imperial raised his hand.

"Pardon me, but you mean the Dragon killing hero of Skyrim legend, correct?" The Nord nodded, his eyes narrowed in case the Imperial said anything he judged wrong. "And Tiber Septim, founder of the modern Empire, was a Dragonborn as well?"

"Yes, although his true name it Talos, just so you know…"

"Then that means… this Dragonborn will have a similar effect on Tamriel's future!" The Imperial seemed very pleased, perhaps thinking the Dragonborn would rejuvenate the Empire. However the Nord, not to be outdone, spoke up again.

"Yes, well, I think he'll have some work to do here first. For a start, clearing his homeland of all the filth living here." Both a Dunmer and a Argonian started to speak, but a Breton beat the two it.

"What makes you think the Dragonborn is a Nord?" The Nord seemed rather taken aback by this.

"Well… I mean, I couldn't see him but I guessed… anyway, a Dragonborn could only be a Nord! A proud warrior, with a Battle Axe and Shield, his battle cries making his enemy flee in terror! With a swing of his axe he could crush a man's skull, and no winter wind could stop his march to destiny!" The Nord finished staring at the opposite wall, making the the Bosmer sitting there lean to the side to make sure he was not looking at him. The Nord was snapped out of his revive when the Breton spoke again.

"I don't know that much about the Dragonborn, but I think they don't have to be a Nord. I reckon they could be a Breton, after all I heard Tiber, sorry Talos was infact a Breton that grew up in Skyrim." The Nord tried to interpret, looking a bit annoyed, but the Breton carried on regardless. "Anyway, since the Dragonborn can use the Thu'um, I reckon he would be more magic inclined. With a sword in one hand, magic spell in the other, he attacks his foes from afar with fire and lightning, then finishes them off with his blade!"

"Now wait a minute," The Nord began, but the Imperial suddenly butted in.

"I think the Dragonborn would be an Imperial, a leader of men, not a spellcaster. Able to rouse a man's heart with his voice, leading them to victory across a field of blood! No challenge too great, no army to big, he will lead mankind into a new era of peace and prosperity!" The Imperial grinned, while the Nord struggled for words. A stoic Redguard in the corner suddenly spoke up.

"The Dragonborn doesn't have to be involved in politics, he could just be an adventurer. I can see it now; a Redguard Dragonborn, braving the harshest climate, seeking adventure in the deepest dungeons, facing reborn foes of old." The Redguard nodded happily. "Thats what the Dragonborn should be like."

"All right, but he doesn't have to be a Redguard to do all that, you know." The Nord muttered from the bar, pulling the cork from another bottle.

"This one finds it strange, all Dragonborns seem to be male, not female," a Khajiit noted, taking a sip from his ale. The Bosmer nodded as well.

"Yeah. Anyway, do they really have to be a man? I mean, they could be an elf." Dead silence. The Nord stared in shock, the Breton considered it, the Imperial was indignified to think that a elf could lead the Empire and the Redguard was once again lost in his own world. The Bosmer looked around, and guessing he wasn't going to receive an answer, carried on "A Bosmer could take on a Dragon, with a bow. He would be able to shoot out a Dragon's eye even if it was in mid-flight! He could take out a man from half a mile away, and, with a single arrow, kill a group of charging warriors!"

"How exactly?" An Orc suddenly asked. The Bosmer blinked and looked at the Orc, who like the Redguard had remained silent thus far. "How could someone kill a group with only one arrow? It doesn't make sense"

"Well… it just a figure of speech…" the Orc raised an eyebrow, so the Bosmer decided to change the subject quickly. "So er... what do you think your race's Dragonborn would look like?" The Orc scratched his chin, thinking about it.

"Huge, taller than any man. Able to wield a war hammer with ease, using it to bring down ranks and ranks of foes. No magic, just pure physical strength. All his armor and weapons are forged by himself, all fit for a Chief,"

"A silent assassin, " the Dunmer suddenly muttered, "able to avoid detection, striking from the shadows. You don't know he's there until his knife is at your neck, an arrow is in your back, or a fireball is burning your skin away."

"Huh, well," the Altmer began to say, "An Altmer Dragonborn…" the Altmer suddenly realised that everyone was angrily staring at him. The Nord and the Imperial where basically daring him to speak. Defeated, the Altmer went back to his wine.

"Well," the Nord began, still glaring at at the Altmer, "while you all put out some… good, arguments of different Dragonborns, I still think he'll be a Nord. Unless one of you two wish to convince me otherwise?" He gestured mockingly at the Argonian and the Khajiit.

The Argonian shrugged. "Got nothing, how about you?" he asked the Khajiit.

"This one is afraid not," the Khajiit said, getting to his feet and wrapping his cloak around himself. "I have a message to deliver, and this storm has delayed me for too long. I must be on my way."

"Yeah right," the Nord snorted. "Good luck surviving out there. That fur won't help much, even if it's in your ears." The Nord laughed, while the Khajiit just grinned.

"Wait and see friend, wait and see." With that, he walked to the door and slipped through, closing it without a sound. The Nord grinned, grabbing another ale bottle.

"I'll give him a mile before he turns into a frozen rug." the Nord brought the bottle up to his lips, then suddenly….

"LOK VAH KOOR!" The bottle dropped from the Nord's hand, and then dead silence settled over the Inn. Even the sound of the storm had stopped. The Nord looked shocked, The Breton was struggling to understand the spell, the Imperial was staring at the door in shock. The Redguard seemed not to have noticed, The Bosmer looked confused, the Orc was looking at the door with a raised eyebrow. The Dunmer scratched his beard thoughtfully, the Altmer was still sadly drinking his wine, while the Argonian hesitated then crossed to the door and opened it.

Sticking his head head out, he called back in "The storms cleared up. Can't see a cloud in the sky. That Khajiit has cleared off as well." He pulled his head head back in, and looked at the other patrons. "So… what now?"

The Nord coughed. "Perhaps… we shouldn't mention this. Too anyone." Nods all round, apart from the Redguard. The Argonian sighed.

"All right. I don't think anyone would believe us anyway.

So, you may be asking, what is this. No idea. At all. I started this last month, and since then I've slowly worked on it. It's quite random, but I reckon it's not that bad. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope I can work on more Skyrim based stories, I have a few ideas. Let's just hope I don't get distracted. Also if anyone finds the way I format the paragraphs annoying, please tell and I'll change it next story.