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Nehemia Kinslayer


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Nehemia's fathers last words on his death bed. However, Nehemia was absent from the event.

My son, the mere minute you were born, the unforgiving breeze of Eastmarch went quiet. In the silence of nature, I was given your name. Nehemia, and the moment I saw you entering this world at the cost of your mother's life, who'm I found so dear. I granted you the title of Bloodletter. Be not mistaken, my son. Even in mourning, my heart was full of joy of your existence. I believed you were destined for might and great deeds. When you were young, you spoke no nonsense, all the words I heard coming from your tongue were not in vain, but of importance. Oh my Silent Nehemia, how I cherished you 'till that winter, how could I have known that your firstborn title was nothing but bad omen?

What corrupted you my son? What made the hatred consume you? Was it the dawn of new era you were born to... What madness filled your heart during that hour, no, that I wish not to know. I truly wished you would have, one day, joined me in Sovngarde to speak of your heroic tales to me and your forefathers. Our clan has always regarded honor above anything else. You forsook the valor and our blood line.

Still, never doubt to raise your sword. Where ever your destiny shall lead you, I know the flame inside you will never fade. But know this, Kinslayer. If I had learned of your fate, I would have slayed you inside your mother's tomb without a second thought. Yet, I regret nothing. I do not know of the serpent that hides under your skin, nor of those eyes, what you have been granted, my son, is an unlimited chest of lies in disguise. I wish you will one day see the truth, and it will set you free. If such is your fate, I welcome you beyond the silent trail, Four Faces of Pain.





Rite to Adulthood: Four Faces of Pain, Origin of Kinslayer



The year was unforgivably cold, the heart winter came close, and in a small village in Eastmarch, the young were preparing for the ritual to adult hood. This year, there were four to be sent into the wilderness, all of the same clan. Skjol Bear-Arm, Gold-haired Faras, Nehemia Bloodletter and Yrim Snowpaw. When the ceremony was about to begin, all of them, except Nehemia boasted on numbers of Icewraith's remains they would return.

When the day arrived and and the four were sent to the silent wilderness, everyone was cautious of the tales of the witches in the swamps, the trolls inside caves or of the wolves that howl to the moon. Each of the four went their separate ways, yet all headed north-east, as it was a custom that the rites were performed in the high peaks of Skyrim.

A week had passed, the bitter cold gave minor frostbites, the thinned numbers of Fauna, stale berries or the frozen meats of half-devoured carcasses offered little nutrition. The four met in a clearing. Skjol had already scored two kills, Gold-haired Faras one, Yrim knew of ones location, and boasted to slay it tomorrow. Nehemia however, hadn't even witnessed a sighting of such creature. He felt disgraced as the others harassed him, they pested that the Silent one would never reach adult hood. The three acknowledged to meet after a week, on next Tirdas.

For a week, Nehemia struggled with the resentment. He had hoped for, being the youngest of them all to defeat the all others in their own competition of slaying the wraiths. But he had not met a single one, no matter how much he traveled, baited, or even attempted to summon them by shouting into the wind. He could not find a single one.

The next Tirdas came, and everyone gathered in the clearing. All except Nehemia had surpassed the requirements of the rites. The bleeding strings of others vocal chords that felt like shock waves in Nehemia's heart when the others kept harassing him. He fell on his knees, closed his eyes. The world spinned in his eyes like an act of sorcery. When closed his eyes he heard an voice in his head, an act of subconscious. Preserve the craft of setting the world ablaze, revere your name. He slowly lifted himself up from the ground whilst looking at his own shadow on the bed of ever-frost. Everyone went silent when Nehemia drew his sword.

On the third Tirdas, Nehemia returned to the village. He threw an large sack on the villages main road. The elder smiled, until he pulled the ropes that held the sack closed. The elder's face went snow white.

Three decapitated heads with faces consumed by pain.



Corrupt, Dagger, Banishment



I, Judge and patron, present Nehemia with the following charges.

It has been two weeks since Nehemia returned to his village after slaughtering the others on trial towards adulthood. That Middas morning, the village was busier than ever. Nehemia's trial was in few moments, and the crowds packed to the square, where the trial would be held.

Meanwhile, in the dungeon beneath the village. Two guards opened the first iron gate, both shuffling through their keys as they make it to the second gate, Nehemia stares them from the dark corner as the second gate is unlocked. The guards wave their hands for Nehemia to stand up, without a word the two escort Nehemia, who also stayed silent to the square. The crowd started yelling, screaming, spiting his name.

Nehemia was put on his knees in front of the old execution block. The guards stood on both sides of him. The village elder approached the square, making his way through the crowd you could now call a mob. He stared at Nehemia for a while as he opens the scroll. He coughs twice before opening his mouth.

I, Judge and Patron, present this young man, Nehemia, with the following charges; Disobedience of his clan, mockery of the ancient traditions, and manslaughter of three.

He rolls the scroll, throws it in front of Nehemia and speaks. The crowd behind the Elder barely manages to keep their mouths shut.

Why is it you slaughtered three of your kinsmen? I am sure I, the village, and your father wish to know the truth. Were you threatened, Nehemia Bloodletter? Nehemia gazes upwards at the Elder. The crowd goes silent as they eagerly wait for Nehemias answer. Smile appears on the young mans face as he lowers his head again.

To test my capacity. The crowd went mad from rage, the hatred, the spites of the crowd screeched of hatred of thousand nords hate towards elves, this time, towards their own clan member. As the judge raises his hand, the crowd goes silent again. The judge nods for Nehemia to continue. Fourteen days I searched for an Ice wraith, none could I find. The three had managed to hunt down at least one. So I found it a fitting rite. Three hunters over one prey.

The crowd was stunned, the Judge shook his head. Indeed Nehemia, you survived twentyone days of the wilderness, and defeated a foe. I bid you welcome to the adulthood. Yet still, slaughter of three kinsmen is not easily forgotten. The judge and Nehemia stare at each other in silence.

Are you without remorse, Nehemia? Nehemia nods slowly. The judge raises his hand slowly. Then shall I, the Judge, The Patron and the Elder of the village declare my sentence.

Therefore, shall I judge you Nehemia, in the light of the recent events. Due to the occurrence taking place during the rites, you are forgiven of penalty of death. However...

The judge took and short pause from his words, as if he was unsure of what to declare.


I shall brand you with the title of Kinslayer. May you carry it to your grave, and to Sovngarde. Your firstborn name shall only be spoken in the village with the prefix of Corrupt. Furthermore, Nehemia Kinslayer, I banish you from the village, and your crimes are to be made known throughout the Hold of Eastmarch. You no longer possess any access to your heritage. You are to keep your clothing you now carry, and you are to be given a dagger for a fair chance of survival. Do you, Nehemia Kinslayer, accept your penalty, for it is of grim nature?

I, Nehemia Kinslayer. Find the penalty sufficient of my crimes, for they are without remorse. I accept the judgement and seek no complaints.






To be continued...
This post was last modified: December 20th 2012, 10:15 AM by Nehemia


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Post #9973
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Very ominous, Nehemia, good work.

Also, I'll move this to the general Roleplay-section, rather than the one for biographies :)




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Post #9983
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(November 17th 2012, 06:28 AM)Triskele Wrote: Very ominous, Nehemia, good work.

Also, I'll move this to the general Roleplay-section, rather than the one for biographies :)

When it reaches close to ten thousand words, there's going to be enough biography, eh? But I guess its more of a biography in form of story telling. So go ahead.

Also yup, already made continuation to the series.


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Post #11102
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Updated. Three down, seven to go.
This post was last modified: November 21st 2012, 01:42 AM by Nehemia


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Post #11112
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This is some great work! The first time I read through this only the first two parts were up. I like how the first part leads you on to thinking how great the son is but gradually twists and shifts into a darker more sinister story.

With the second part it's a detailed yet concise tale of what the father spoke of. It deals withemotions people can relate to such as a longing for acceptance, then frustration, and then finally rage. The ending is quite ghastly as well.

The third part is of course his trial. I think he got off easy but then again I ain't a nord. Tongue_out

Looking forward to the rest of this story to see where Nehemia goes from his exile. (I'm guessing sunshine and rainbows aren't in his path.)


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Post #11114
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(November 21st 2012, 02:19 AM)Horizon Seeker Wrote: This is some great work! The first time I read through this only the first two parts were up. I like how the first part leads you on to thinking how great the son is but gradually twists and shifts into a darker more sinister story.

With the second part it's a detailed yet concise tale of what the father spoke of. It deals withemotions people can relate to such as a longing for acceptance, then frustration, and then finally rage. The ending is quite ghastly as well.

The third part is of course his trial. I think he got off easy but then again I ain't a nord. Tongue_out

Looking forward to the rest of this story to see where Nehemia goes from his exile. (I'm guessing sunshine and rainbows aren't in his path.)

The basis of the penalty comes from the assumption that "What happens in the rites, stays at the rites." Also, to a nord, honor and fame are more important than their lives. And to be branded with a title of mockery for all eternity is considered a very shame of ones soul. Not to mention death penalty would have kinda removed him from existence. He could have been imprisoned, even though he wasn't, he still remains as an outlaw. "and your crimes are to be made known throughout the Hold of Eastmarch." But yeah, it does sound rather "non-harsh."

And you said it, no sunshine for Nehemia. I'm glad you've enjoyed it at least somewhat so far.
This post was last modified: November 21st 2012, 02:41 AM by Nehemia


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Post #11117
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Figured it was something along those lines! I understand where it comes from and how the decision came to be. Having the main character die towards the beginning of the story does tend to be problematic too.

I was just speaking from my personal outside perspective as I'm not part of a Tamriel nordic society. It was a play on what sometimes happens in TES V: Skyrim. A few non-nords in TES V:Skyrim make an outside comment on Nord customs and a Nord responds "What are you talking about, you ain't a nord."


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Updated.


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