This is the story of the last of the dragonborns to walk the land of Tamriel, this is his story as passed down for generations through song and tale, immortalized and remembered for his heroism, portrayed as the flawless hero he was not. This is the tale of Nauron The Dragonborn. (chapter 1).
On a cool spring day, a hunter walked the forest grounds with his child, looking for that catch to feed them that night. The man stalks in the shadows and moves as graceful as the wind, and as silent as his own shadow. Bow and arrow ready to shoot, his eyes widen as he focuses, and his sensitive elf ears twitching at the slightest sound, nothing can escape this natural hunter. Alas, any chance he had to sneak up on his prey was abolished by his young Breton child, walking so heavily in the middle of the path, dragging his feet and daydreaming about something far away.
The Elf calls the child firmly, but as much as he could as whisper "Nauron! We're in the middle of a hunt!". And the Breton child's response was as careless and as out of subject as it could be "We do not look alike, are you not my father?". And on those words, the Elf straightens his stance, lowers his bow, and takes a deep breath "My son, forgive me for not telling you this before, I wanted to wait until you're older. You are not of my blood, Nauron. But you are my son! And I think of you as nothing less than that". The child's eyes tear up "I knew I was not your child, but I tried to tell myself otherwise. Please, tell me, where are my parents? How is it that I'm with you and not them?". The Elf takes another deep breath, he always hoped that this day would never come "It's getting dark, let's make camp here and rest and I shall tell you everything".
After the two had started a fire, and put the only rabbit they caught on the fire, the man continues "it was some fifteen springs ago, and it was a cold night.." Nauron then starts to have flashbacks, the couple huddle around the fireplace to keep warm from the freezing cold weather. "...I heard some shouting in the distance, but I decided to stay away, dangerous bandits enhabit these forests.." A large man breaks down the front door, only his shadow cast by the torches of his comrades behind him can be seen, the father jumps to his feet and shouts "LEAVE MY HOUSE YOU MONSTERS". "...I then heard a woman scream, that scream sent a shiver down my spine, I ran towards the noise as fast as I could..". The man and his wife lay lifeless on the shack floor, one of the bandits approaches, sword at the ready, he then suddenly stops and then falls on his face, there's an arrow halfway through the back of his neck. His comrades jump in terror and look out the open door from where the arrow came, but before they could do anything, two more arrows shoot from the darkness and strikes them both down. "...filthy bandits. I then went into the house to find a small child, the innocent child had no idea what had happened, but a tear hung in his eye when he was all alone before I came into the house. I buried the dead, and I took that child and raised him as my own."
Nauron had now broken into tears, he begged his father to tell him who they were. The man sighs, and he speaks "The beasts who..." and just as he spoke those words, an arrow hits him in the heart! Nauron screams "NO!" and he turns around to see masked bandits running towards them with torches and swords, Nauron is overwhelmed by emotion. Rage and sadness take over him, he looks at the approaching bandits and just screams from the top of his head, tears running down his face. And just as he screamed, the torches in the hands of the bandits exlode, knocking them dead instantly. Nauron freezes, he's shocked, was he unintentionally responsible for that? Before he has anytime to think, he hears more bandits, he turns his gaze towards his father to see him on his side, eyes open...lifeless. The boy then runs as fast as his feet can carry him.
That night, Nauron walks away with an unrivaled hatred towards beast races. He blames them, all of them, for the death of his mother, and for the death of his fathers.
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