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 travellers from the road had quickly taken shelter in the Windpeak
Inn, while Thoring gave out ale 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 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, try to start a conversation.
"This darn 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."
"A lot 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.
"Rumour has it Helgan was destroyed. Apparently General Tullis was there, and he and his troops
apparently ran all the way to Solitude after. Ulfric was there as well, probably er... scouting it
out and he retreated around the same time as well. And 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 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 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 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 Dunmer and an 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 Bosmer sitting 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 heard Tiber, sorry Talos was in fact a Breton that grew up in

Skyrim." The Nord tried to interpret, looking a bit annoyed, but 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 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 spell caster. 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 peace and prosperity!" The Imperial grinned, while the Nord
struggled for words. A stoic Redguard in the corner suddenly 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 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 an elf could lead the Empire and
the Redguard was once again 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 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, pure physical strength. All his armour 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 the Altmer, "while you all put out some good,
arguments of different Dragonborns, still think he'll be a Nord. Unless one of you two wish to
convince me otherwise?" He gestured mockingly at the Argonian 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 storm had stopped. The Nord looked shocked, The Breton was struggling
to understand the spell, and the Imperial was staring at door in shock. The Redguard seemed not
to have noticed, The Bosmer looked confused, the Orc was looking at the door with 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 out, he called back in "The storms cleared up. Can't see a cloud in the sky. That
Khajiit has cleared off well." He pulled his 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.