The Heart of A Dovah

Prologue

     Justarius Drakeblood, a local of Cyrodiil who grew up in a rather privileged life, choosing to follow suit with his interests and his family's business with their life in the city of Bruma. To aspire for an education and manipulation of the arcane arts. Over his young years he grew to become a moderate sorcerer's apprentice. His mind wandering over unraveling the secrets of Atherius: The Daedric realm that is the source of all magic.  As Justarius grew up to his more mature years, by the age of 19 he yearned for adventure, feeling that life as an aspiring mage leads to nothing if you are cooped up in a college or guild to waste away their potential. He felt that he could lead to newer discoveries, properly hone his developing skills in the real world and lastly make a living for himself. Despite his scholarly lifestyle, his family teased him as "Having the heart of a Nord." His thirst for adventure and wanderlust fueling his drive to gain strength. By the age of 20 he finally steps his foot into the real world, unaware of how fortunate his life was. Throwing himself into the world left him alone, he refused to return to his family until he made a name for himself. He refused to feel like a failure. 

     His less than intriguing visage and clean behavior became quite the eyesore for many a traveler along his journeys as he tried searching for humble beginnings. Enlisting and searching for jobs that may require arcane expertise. It started more than simple. Pest control, and even more physical labors such as farming and on the rare occasion, gaining a bit of muscle from woodwork. He knew these were things his heart did not want, he wished for something grand to commit to. Yet he needed to at least get some amount of Septims to begin his journeys beyond such. After a year of living away from his former luxurious life learning of the hardships of what it was like for the average person, he sets forth to fulfil his dream. Feeling stronger and more confident from adapting to this more manual life, yet still able to embrace his arcane potential in realistic scenarios. With a spark in his mind filling with infinite possibilities of what he shall face, the deeds he shall accomplish, the challenges he will conquer. Like any young man, were all dreams of fantasy and hope. Reality planned for a much more difficult path.

     Sometimes life gives you a sign, of once you commit to something. There is no going back, in Justarius' case this came with word from a messenger. A tragedy struck Bruma as he learned of restless crime syndicates building the peoples ire for his family and the other mages well off lifestyle. Desperate to recover since hardships of the aftermath of the recent sacking of the Imperial City. The City Folk and criminals banded together to riot and raid the mages guild. Stealing, pillaging, and from malice and jealousy. Murdering all within, including his Mother and Father. Now knowing his name is a target to what he once called his home. He could no longer turn back. Given no other choice but to set out on his journey.

     He decided a true new beginning is in order, one with no soul knowing his name. One where he could start anew and become the him he wished to be. To do what his original purpose was, to make his family proud. Justarius Drakeblood finally over time of pondering, decides to journey north to the lands of Skyrim. A tough and rigid landscape where only the strong prosper, and heroes are sung for beyond great halls in the Nordic afterlife: Sovnguard.

     Without time to mourn his losses, he sets out into the unknown. Joining a small caravan heading towards Skyrim, preparing to cross the border for the social and trade hub of the country, the city of Whiterun. And through a horrid timing of two factions unknowing to Justarius. Is caught in an encounter he could not have foreseen. On his way with the caravan passing the border from Cyrodiil into Skyrim. He was caught in a short but intense conflict, scrambling away from the group, he fails to lose chase to unknown aggressors, being struck across the back of his head. His last sights were... of Imperial Soldiers striking down what appeared to be a band of Nord warriors. Dawning simple yet bright blue and brown padded armor. With an inability to hold himself together his mind fades into black. 

     And so our tale begins, our Imperial friend caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. At mercy to what the gods have planned for him.

                               (Authors note: Please excuse any errors I may create here overtime, It has been genuinely years since I had a momentum and got back into this all recently. I am incredibly rusty. So please go easy on me kay? And I hope you all can enjoy my stories for the foreseeable future! I love you all and hope to see you when our story truly begins! The backstory of our hero may be a tad basic but its what he becomes throughout the story and how he develops as a person through it that matters. After all, he wanted to grow up as a better man. Fortune may smile upon him yet.)