playa 202 among 249 hatas
(time of death: 12-12-14 09:25:13 PM)
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The assembled crowd stood astonished at the force of this "dragonborn" and his voice. They stood on a balcony in the keep of Whiterun, an impressive building known as Dragonsreach. The audience consisted of the Jarl, Balgruuf, his aides, the Dark Elf that the half orc now understood to be his bodyguard, or housecarl as they called it, the captain of the city guard, the Jarl's brother, and the mercenary himself. The dragonborn had just demonstrated his power by shouting apart a stack of crates.
"Shor's bones," spoke the Jarl, "it's really true. You are the dragonborn! "
Everyone looked uncomfortable at this pronouncement from the Jarl, and the mercenary now knew why. In the 2 days since the dragon attack, he'd learned much about this world. The dragonborn was the central figure in this world's end time prophecy. The thought of the end of the world would be enough to make even the hardiest warrior nervous.
The dragonborn spoke little, still coming to grips with he new power. Since the attack he'd traveled, discovering way to learn new shouts, granting him immense power.
"Well, orc," the Jarl said, "it has been an interesting couple days. Much has happened and I have not had the chance to truly thank you for slaying that dragon!"
"It is not necessary -" the mercenary began before the Jarl cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"I won't hear of it. I've instructed my aides to provide you with a hefty sum of gold and the finest horse. I understand you're not from....around here? " The Jarl looked the mercenary up and down, and the mercenary assumed his grayish skin and in-between features were not common on the orcs of this world.
The mercenary simply nodded in response.
"Yes, well, in addition to those rewards I have also decided to name you Thane of Whiterun! You will hold a place of honor among my retinue, and the title itself holds many privileges. But, I need your name."
The mercenary chewed his lower lip, his tusked canines showing. "I don't have a proper name, I'm afraid. My mother named me trash and threw me out with it, and my father was executed for the rape of my mother. People just call me Grim, apparently I should smile more." Grim chuckled at his own joke.
"Very well, Thane Grim it is. A fitting name, I believe."
This sly williker sooth-sayed his words 'roundabout 12-13-14 03:24:52 AM by flaming arrow.
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