Chapture one:


The sky was a greyish hue as the crisp air blew across the fresh fallen snow, tossing up small flurries that danced acrossa frozen landscape of blues, whites, and greys. The pine forrest stood tall above, as an armor clad figure waded through the knee high snow. His pace was urgent, distressed, and he clutched his shoulder. faint pinpricks of crimson red would occasionally dot the footfalls behind him. The Man's armor was of typical imperial design, with bits of leather making up the majority, a steel breastplate under the leather overtop. Across his shoulders was a cloak of crimson red that danced behind him in the bitter wind. It was clearly the armor of the Penitus Occulotus. He wore no helmet, and a imperial broadsword of officer design hung at his hip, albeit ancient in its looks. He was Vorenus Grewyn Lucius, a soldier of the Imperial Legion, who was now on the run. He looked over his shoulder, scanning the horizon with his greyish silver eyes.

A scar adorned his left cheek, and his greyish short cropped hair lightly blew with each windburst. A few more drops of crimson decorated the ground as a howl pierced the dusk air. The man cursed under his breath, and moved forward with renewed vigor. Knowing he could not outrun his four legged persuers, he instead opted to ambush them. He moved his body against a thick tree trunk, drawing his sword and occasionally moving his head from behind it to look across the landscape.He would think back to the events that led him to this conclusion. Being outnumbered and chased through the woods.

12 hours ago he had been part of a daring raid against the ambassador to Skyrim from the Elven Altmeri Dominion.
Centurion Vorenus Grewyn Lucius had been tracked ever since he had ambushed the Caravan. The Elves had
never counted that the imperials assigned to her were under the banner of the old Empire. Who gladly joined Grewyn in the taking of the coach as soon as he announced his intentions. Those soldiers were loyal to him. The High Elven noble was ableto maintain the typical stuck up attitude, even demanding his surrender, until Vorenus had shoved the sword through her belly and left her to die a slow death in the snow as he watched her bleed to death. The rest of the Elven coherts were put to the sword as the ambassador groaned and screamed in the slush. He put his boot on her neck, and finished the process with a quick swipe about 2 inches deep across her throat. Crimson pooled around her as she thrashed for a while and gradually grew still. He wiped his sword on her robes, and returned it to the scabbord on his side. The bodies were decapitated, and the heads put on sticks beside the road as a warning to the others who might pass by.

For two years he had been persued, hunted. It had been his first proactive attack. He was ruthless in his efficiency,
and in the next couple hours managed to take those soldiers and attempt to sack the very embassy of the dominion.
Too long had he waited for dominion assassins to come for him. For 200 years he had been evading them, and fightingfor the old empire he had helped create under Tiber Septim (Or Talos). He had slowly watched the very empire he had helpedbuild into a world superpower decline until it began to lose the very culture that made it what it was. Grewyn had been on the Lam, and forced into the bitter cold of the Norther frontier of skyrim to avoid the numerous people hired to end him. The soldiers that had so willingly picked up arms for him slowly got picked off and destroyed once they managed to force the way through the gate. An arrow had pierced Grewyn's shoulder, so he was forced to flee back into the snow once more,

having bit off more than he could chew this time...