Hey guys,
I made a character based on Kvothe from Patrick Rothfuss' (fluffING BRILLIANT) series, The Name of the Wind and adapt the story to the lore of Tamriel.
Anywho, Kvothe was born in the city of Sentinel, Hammerfell to a troupe of wandering Bards. His father, Ingmarr, was a Nord of Skyrim and his mother, Elara, was a Breton born and raised in Cyrodil. From an early age, Kvothe displayed an amazing aptitude with magicka, mastering the Lightning Bolt spell when he was just 5 years old. His parents encouraged his skills and by the time Kvothe was 10, he was the most skilled mage at the troupe.
The troupe itself was the most welcoming one around. There was Burguk the Orc drummer, with big smith's arms and big smith's heart, Avik the Redguard singer-swordsman, jovial and always in need of some mead, Ayisha, the Khajjiti dancer, with motions as swift as swift as her dagger and many more.
The troupe travelled around Tamriel, from the deserts of Elswyr to the walking cities of Valenwood, singing songs of battle and adventure and love. They never made much money but life was simple. Happy.
The troupe was in Skyrim at the time near Riften. They had stopped for the night and the women of the troupe were making dinner. The men sat around a fire, drinking and laughing. Kvothe, 17 years old at the time, glanced up towards the kitchens at Avik's particularly buxom daughter, Jolda. She caught his mischevious grin and blushed. He discreetly motioned towards the trees and slinked away from the campfire. Jolda rolled her big brown eyes and followed. They were on each other like rabbits and in a few minutes, it was over.
"Fetcher", Jolda said with her legs wrapped around him. "We agreed not to do this anymore. I'm to be married soon."
" My love," said Kvothe grinning. "I don't remember you complaining 10 minutes ago."
" More like 2 minutes ago. And don't say call me that."
"Is it such a sin to profess my undying love for one that lights such fires in my loins?" Jolda rolled off and punched him in the arm, laughing.
Then they heard a scream.
***
Yeah, thanks for reading. If you've read the Name of the Wind, you have a pretty good idea about what comes next. I will be changing a few things here and there to fit with the whole atmosphere of Skyrim. Can you guys critique and review my writing? It's been a while since I wrote anything of note and I want to know where I stand. Thanks again!!!!!!
I made a character based on Kvothe from Patrick Rothfuss' (fluffING BRILLIANT) series, The Name of the Wind and adapt the story to the lore of Tamriel.
Backstory
Since I'm playing on the 360, I won't be able to provide pictures. Anywho, Kvothe was born in the city of Sentinel, Hammerfell to a troupe of wandering Bards. His father, Ingmarr, was a Nord of Skyrim and his mother, Elara, was a Breton born and raised in Cyrodil. From an early age, Kvothe displayed an amazing aptitude with magicka, mastering the Lightning Bolt spell when he was just 5 years old. His parents encouraged his skills and by the time Kvothe was 10, he was the most skilled mage at the troupe.
The troupe itself was the most welcoming one around. There was Burguk the Orc drummer, with big smith's arms and big smith's heart, Avik the Redguard singer-swordsman, jovial and always in need of some mead, Ayisha, the Khajjiti dancer, with motions as swift as swift as her dagger and many more.
The troupe travelled around Tamriel, from the deserts of Elswyr to the walking cities of Valenwood, singing songs of battle and adventure and love. They never made much money but life was simple. Happy.
The troupe was in Skyrim at the time near Riften. They had stopped for the night and the women of the troupe were making dinner. The men sat around a fire, drinking and laughing. Kvothe, 17 years old at the time, glanced up towards the kitchens at Avik's particularly buxom daughter, Jolda. She caught his mischevious grin and blushed. He discreetly motioned towards the trees and slinked away from the campfire. Jolda rolled her big brown eyes and followed. They were on each other like rabbits and in a few minutes, it was over.
"Fetcher", Jolda said with her legs wrapped around him. "We agreed not to do this anymore. I'm to be married soon."
" My love," said Kvothe grinning. "I don't remember you complaining 10 minutes ago."
" More like 2 minutes ago. And don't say call me that."
"Is it such a sin to profess my undying love for one that lights such fires in my loins?" Jolda rolled off and punched him in the arm, laughing.
Then they heard a scream.
***
Yeah, thanks for reading. If you've read the Name of the Wind, you have a pretty good idea about what comes next. I will be changing a few things here and there to fit with the whole atmosphere of Skyrim. Can you guys critique and review my writing? It's been a while since I wrote anything of note and I want to know where I stand. Thanks again!!!!!!