The Antiquated Scrolls XIV: Skyrim

It is 2011. You wake up in a cart alongside a pair of bearded strangers arguing about... something.  You're in a massive world filled with rolling clouds, rugged mountains, bustling cities, lush fields and ancient dungeons. You feel like you're in for an epic adventure where you will be able to be any type of character you can imagine and do whatever you want.



"Greetings traveller, I am the True King of the Nords Ulfric Stormcloak and you join the story as I am taken to what is sure to be my execution." The man with the ridiculous inaccurate viking helmet tells you and then turns and winks at the camera.

"And I'm Ralof." says Ralof.

"It's been lovely to get to know you old sport but its time for all three of us to get murdered by the frightful imperial rotters." True King of the Nords Ulfric Stormcloak informs you as the cart trundles on into the town of Helgen.



A dragon is in the distance somewhere making a nuisance of itself. You are commanded by the imperial guardsman to get down from the cart.

"Arrow in the knee." says the second imperial guardsman allowing us all to get the stupid meme out of our system and get on with our story.

"I'd prefer it right now if we could formalize the use of the term guardsperson." Says the first imperial guardsperson. "So um nice to meet you. I'm the option that isn't Ralof but lets not get ahead of ourselves."

Not-Ralof clears their throat and looks down at their notes. "So it says here that you're to be put in the old gill-o-teen but it doesn't actually tell me anything else about you like your name gender species physical description any actual crimes you did or anythink like that." They look back up at you again. "And I left my glasses at home so please describe yourself for me and we can get this character creation malarky all over and done with asap."

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