Children flocked towards the obviously well aged orc, as he motioned that
he was about to tell a story. Almost everyday in the town of Pelegiad, the
children would flock around the old orc to here a story of his, and his master’s adventures, many years before. Today was different though, he seemed almost excited to tell the story, and of course being as old as he was, and having seen many exciting things in life, the children knew if the old orc, was excited to tell a story it must be good.
“Gather around children and I will tell you the whole story of my masters great deeds, start to finish.” The old orc said with a smile on his face. Almost as soon as he said this, at least two-dozen children showed up.
My master jumped down from the rooftop almost silently, as the royal guard worked his way up the latter to the roof. It was the second time that week that Florodine had to escape the imperial guards. It was hard being as poor as he was, everyday, he would be lucky to get a single loaf of bread, and stealing had become a regular activity that year. Florodine knew he had to find a way to get money, the city of Cyrodiil didn’t exactly offer the most amount of jobs for poor people. Sure there were many small business’, blacksmith, clothier, and countless others, but the fact was in order to buy all the supplies to start your own shop, one needs money, something Florodine had never had.
As Florodine crawled out of the alleyway limping from his fall, he was eager to eat the bread he had just stolen from the bakery.
“They always give up the chase after a good five minutes,” Florodine thought as he tucked a big bite of bread into the back of his mouth. Florodine was pretty average for a dark elf, slender, and almost born fit, his running from authorities, had made him quite strong over the years, and even though eating had become a luxury, his stomach was never full. His eyes were red, as all dunmer’s eyes were, but his seemed different, behind the poor looking dirt encrusted face, was a determined warrior. His face was solid, and from the lack of lines on it, he had never smiled, though the occasional scar showed that he wasn’t new to fighting.
Working his way to the alley he had called home Florodine quickly looked around for the pudgy guard who had chased him. The streets of Cyrodiil never ceased to be busy, an orange glow illuminated the city, and gas lamps were at a short interval throughout the metropolis. The sound of hooves clopping against the cobblestone street was the most common background noise, but once on the side streets almost everyone walked. Turning one more corner, Florodine finally came to the alleyway he and his dog lived in. He had made it reasonably comfortable over the years, hundreds of blankets made a roof for them, and he even had a shelf to put what little items he had stolen on. As Florodine pulled the cover over his little mat he slept on, he saw the shadow of something move.