Perfect, he thought as his target sunk to the ground. He had been planning this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He pulled a knife from between his belt and made sure he still knew the correct words to his poem. His poem, his masterpiece. Well, part of, that was. Without any feels of remorsal he started carving it into the man lying at his feet, every rune alike the original ones the Dov had used. After a short time, he was finished. There it was, in thin runes, red from the blood from his victim. His masterpiece. He smiled like a small girl getting a sweetroll, and quickly ran off in the night, cackling. The body just lay there, waiting to be found.

This story takes place just about 50 years after the events of Skyrim. The one dragonborn has died, and most of the dragons have been slain for good. The few remaining are into hiding at dens unknown to men. Please be aware that this story will feature some heavy violence, so if you've got a very weak stomach, it might not be your thing. That being said, let's list the rules:

• No taking control of other peoples' characters.
• No making overpowered characters. Try to stick to the canon.
• Do not make your character know things they aren't supposed to know.
• All characters must speak/understand at least a little Dovahzul.
• Please put any off-topic comments in {swirly brackets}

A Young Nord is on his way home, His name is Bjorn. He's a young lad, well-outfitted with Fur Armor and equipped with an Iron axe and has wears a pouch where he keeps his important things.

A middle aged khajiit named jo'tesh, he is wearing master illusion robes and hood, with light imperial boots and gauntlets. A bow and quiver on his back, he is heading to elsweyr

During his way to his house, he see's a lone Khajit walking the same path Bjorn is taking, He wonder's if He'd probably like to walk with him. He catches up to the khajit.

*Bjorn slightly cough's, and asks"

"Um, sorry for the interruption but I'd like to ask you something."

Jo'tesh looks at the nord for a second "what do you want?"

"Um... I saw you walking down this path which happens to lead to my house, and I wanted to ask. Where are you headed too?"

"Jo'tesh is heading to elsweyr"

"Oh! Um... Well this path leads to my home, and I was wondering if you'd like to travel with me. Like they say... It's always better to be travelling with someone else or a group. I'm Bjorn by the way."

"Sure... Jo'tesh understands"

And thus they set off. After a while of travelling, the two suddenly stop. They see a body lying amidst the grass, with a face expressing great horror. He is wearing nothing on his chest, making some thin runes looking like they were engraved with a dagger visible. It is clear that someone has put a lot of work into making them look good. It reads:

Jo'tesh says nothing as he is thinking, then "jo'tesh does not know what the runes mean although this one has seen them before"

Bjorn goes down on his knee's, he realizeses these are runes of the language of an old language used by Dragons that were once in this world.

"Wait! I know what this means, I used to study these runes. Just Give me a minute."

*He takes a moment to read the runes and translating them.

"Okay, lets see. "When night falls, Before you break: Find me, The word, at the throat of the world...." Now what does this mean?"

"Hmmm, jo'tesh wonders who would do this"

Just then, a thoroughly drunk argonian, sporting a roughspun tunic & ragged trousers with a tankard hanging from two fingers of his left hand, wondered onto the scene. He stopped when he could comprehend that the blob that he saw on the ground was, indeed, a carcass. He paused, looking shocked, glanced at the tankard, and then turned around and attempted to waddle back to the tavern that he had come from, seemingly to return the tankard (as he didn't mean to take it, but was unaware that he did, because he was, indeed, thoroughly drunk). He also started to murmer something unintelligible, seemingly about either nords, lutes, or mushrooms.

"Jo'tesh wonders what that was about"