Pathfinder a Zealous Heart
A Nord, late 30s, touch of an old soldier about him
Eric Snowmane. Where to begin. Eric had grown up in the small town of Whiterun, in the province of Skyrim. He lived the life of a quite, ordinary child, with his parents, Jane and Skall. He would help his father with the thatching in the farms on the outskirts of Whiterun and, indeed, in Whiterun itself, complaining all the while. He eventually grew to be a very good Thatcher, and took over his father’s position when he became too old to work. He lived a fairly standard, normal life for the largest part, drinking in the Traven, working to keep the roofs over people’s heads, taking a shine to the local girls, but never really settling down. Everything was really rather normal. Then, shortly after his 30th birthday, the rebellion started. Eric had always tried to keep people’s homes warm and safe, and seeing the violence that was beginning to spring up around Skyrim, he felt he need to sign on immediately. The only issue was however, which side would he fight for. He agreed with the idea that the empire had been brutally beaten by the Elves, as the rebels pointed out, but that was not a reason to fight against the empire, quite the opposite. the empire needed support. He did disagree with the outlawing of Talos worship however, but still, he felt that the empire had done right by Skyrim, and there was still more that could be done. This coupled with the fact the that the rebels where horribly racist, made up his mind for him. Through Whiterun may have remained neutral, it’s people did not, and Eric joined the imperial legion
He was sent off to Solitude for a short time to begin his training, but he was off to fight after only 4 months of training, clearly they were running short of men. Eric first saw action in the battle of fort Neugrad, clearing the fort of the Stormcloak rebels. It was a surprisingly bloody battle, with the Imperial legion send wave after wave of ill trained soldiers against ruthless rebels, Eric was lucky to survive the battle, but came away with a few scars. He didn’t get a chance to catch his breath though, word had come down that Whiterun was to be attacked, and the legion were rounding up any soldiers that could walk and sending them to help defend the city. The wounded were left behind in the fort and everyone else went straight to Whiterun for the battle. They hadn’t been there a day when it all kicked off.
The stormcloaks came in force. Eric had managed to pick up enough in the last battle to survive relatively unscathed. To be fair, it didn’t seem like they were really needed to be honest, as the Dragonborn tore through the ranks of the stormcloaks. It was an awe inspiring and terrifying scene, people being torn apart by the force of his voice, Eric could only watch in shock. The city was not too badly damaged by the battle and the soldiers who had survived were once again quickly moved on. From then on Eric saw allot of conflict, fighting at various forts and battles throughout Skyrim. he even fought at the battle of windhelm, but was injured when he took and arrow to the chest and had to be carried out of the city. Once the fighting was over, and Skyrim had been restored to peace under imperial rule, Eric went home and back to his old life. He had earned something of a reputation in the city, with the Battleborn clan praising his defence of the empires interests in Skyrim, but he found it difficult to get back into the old habits. He had spent the best part of a year taking people’s homes from them and now he couldn’t just go back to repairing their roofs. He decided he needed a break and so, set out for Cyrodiil for a holiday.
Stopping over in Bruma briefly, he felt quite at home. It was very Nordic in its design, unfortunately, here was when everything started to go wrong. On his 4th day in the town, his sight was suddenly struck by some strange ailment. He couldn’t see very clearly, his eyes became clouded and he could no longer make out anything at any real distance. He sought out a doctor, who informed him that he could not be cured. He sought out a priest, who told him that he had been cursed by the gods, he sought out the Traven, and drown his sorrows in ale. That night, he was troubled by strange visions. Visions of himself in prison, of him travelling with a group of people, whom he didn’t know. He awoke in a cold sweat.
He left Bruma shortly after that, heading out on a pilgrimage, seeking to right whatever wrong he had committed. He visited many way shrines and temples, but the visions still came by night. Soon, he also learned that he now had access to magic, this took him a little by surprise. He also learned that his visions were of the future, and he could, to some little extent, control them. This, put his mind at rest somewhat, but it didn’t help with the fact that he was nearly blind. Whilst stopping off in Chorrol, his first vision came true. He happened to pass a shop in which one of the guards was shaking down the owner for protection money. Eric decided to intervene and was very quickly thrown in Jail, and that was where he now found himself. He just hoped that these weren’t the people from his vision, as they all looked a bit dodgy.