Snow Elf's Path

"The Nords are coming!" Shouted a fellow Snow Elf in a hurry. Running as fast as he could to alert the rest of the camp who was thought to be well hidden and out of reach from the Nords causing racial cleansing ever since the 500 followers of Ysgramor set foot on Skyrim.

"The Nords are c….." His voice lost its power as the tip of an iron arrow struck his back and dug in deep enough to send him face first on the harsh rocky ground. Shortly after, several more arrows followed, digging in the victim who had a pure intend, trying to alert his camp of fellow Snow Elves. His terrible fate left him with no chance of Survival.

The year is 420, first Era. Nords started a great war towards the Legendary Snow Elves before history itself started to be recorded.

Reasons behind it were numerous.

The l.u.s.t for more land, the l.u.s.t for more power, several military provocations as well.

But Ysgramor started it all when he provoked the great Snow Elves for numerous uncalled for reasons. Forcing the Snow Elves to attack in order to determine their faction domination. Now that day is just written in history as the "Night of Tears".

Luck was by his side that day. He Survived along with his two sons, Yngol and Ylgar while the rest of the Nords in Saarthal have met their end when they faced against the powerful Snow Elves.  The Eye of Magnus was their power l.u.s.t. Have they fled the battle when the tides were turned? It is not certain.

But the fake King of Skyrim fled back to where he came from, Atmora. And sailed back to Skyrim with the "Legendary" 500 Companions of Ysgramor who helped settle Skyrim. Settle? It was nothing more but a Massacre. They picked small groups one by one until they forced the rest of the elves out of Skyrim and Solstheim. Where they met an unfortunate end on a last battle. But some small groups managed to survive throughout the ages. Having an abnormal lifespan worked to their advantage indeed.

"Attack!! Attack!! Run. Spread out!"

Shouted another Snow Elf as he saw his brother in war get flooded with arrows. Lucky for the Snow Elves, this time the alert was heard no doubt by most. And those who didn't hear it, can put two and two together when they see everyone running. They would join them. This wasn't their first encounter with the Nords.

The Snow Elves were quick on their feet. And no doubt powerful if faced one on one. The chances of winning indeed were thinn. But in this situation they were greatly outnumbered. The Camp didn't hold much Snow Elves, only a few gathered after great effort. That great effort only to end up with twenty Snow Elves. But the Nordic attackers seem to have many men and women approaching. They seemed like they were over a hundred. But who had the time to count under such circ.u.mstances?

The Snow Elves ran as fast as they could, but arrows followed after no doubt. One shot was all it took to make one meet the hard ground, the fate afterwards is inevitable. And if they didn't get shot already, they would meet the end of a Sword, Mace, Battleaxe or Warhammer as a hit from an arrow would surely slow anyone down.

Several Snow Elves from the group were instantly killed, and the rest were shot down shortly after. The Nords were way to close already before the attack started. Fleeing was a tough task, standing to fight was even tougher. If they stood and fought, they would have to fight at least five Nords each. That is, if all twenty wouldn't be killed so fast by arrows.

Well. Not all Twenty were killed. One met a different, more brutal fate. Arlond. A member who recently joined the camp, was no doubt shot by an arrow like the rest. But the arrow didn't leave a devastating blow. Well it did, but it was different and unintentional. The arrow struck his shoulder, made him lose balance and threw him off of a cliff and straight down a river.

The Nords didn't bother going after him. As they thought falling from a cliff that high, surely had brutal circ.u.mstances, And it almost did!

But lucky for Arlond, he fell where the water was deep enough to slow down his landing. He still hit the bottom of the river bank though, but not enough to kill him on the spot. If he fell a bit closer near the edge, he would meet the hard bank of the river with a heavier impact.

However, even though the impact with the River bank didn't kill him, the splash on the water was so impactful that Arlond lost consciousness, which killed almost all his chances of survival.

Well, I did say almost all.

"Where am i?" Said Arlond as he woke up to a ceiling above his head instead of arrows or the poor quality leather tent he had in the camp and got a bit used to.

"You are safe here. Please do not worry and drink this healing potion." When he turned his head to the left side of the bed, he saw a stunning Nordic Woman standing near him, Without pointing a Sword near his neck. Who knows how long she has waited for him to wake up.

Ignoring this odd situation in aims to avoid any sort of racism towards the woman who seemed to have saved him. He said a rather unexpected question. "What day is it?" He asked as he struggled to drink part of the healing potion.

"Its Tirdas(Tuesday). The 16th of the First seed(mars). I'm guessing you know the year." Reaching out to hold the potion for him and helping him sit up, making it a bit easier for him to drink it. He felt caring warmth when her hand was on his shirtless back. Afterwards she said something that in a way was both a question and an answer. 

"I'm also guessing that Nords brought you to this situation. What happened? I found you on the edge of the river. You were almost lifeless. I had to squeeze the water out of you." Said the stunning Nordic Woman while still holding the potion for him, and helping him keep balance. He doesn't need to receive any injuries after defying death like he did. Be it a minor or major injury.

"Nordic Bastards." He yelled out, feeling the pain in his c.h.e.s.t right after. "Damn!" He responded to his own pain. Remembering that the woman who saved him, is 100% a Nord. He added in an apologetic tone. "No offense to you of course. I was never treated by a nord with such kindness. I also never slept for two days." Afterwards he took the last mouthful of the healing potion and felt a lot better. His pain isn't gone entirely but he feels a lot more relief now. You really can't put a price on health and wellbeing.

Avoiding eye contact with him in embarrassment. She said, "I'm ashamed to share the same race with the same nords who caused so much havoc throughout history for the pure urge of power. So don't worry about it." The Snow Elves of which the entire Nordic population badmouthes so deeply, appear so kind and civilized. So who is the real monster here?

"I like you. You sound less short sighted and less arrogant." He replied with a smile. Trying to help her feel relief about the color of her skin. "Nords. They attacked our Camp. I didn't see much of the battle but i'm sure that i am the only survivor. The Nords were to many. We were ambushed, overwhelmed."

"For once I hoped for Nords to not have finger of such a massacre, I was a fool to think so." She did feel grief for the Snow Elves. She really did, but there isn't much she can do single handedly.

Trying to calm her down, he added. "Unfortunately that's how Skyrim is right now. What is your name? Miss?"