Prologue
Prologue
"Have you ever felt so alone that you had nowhere to run, except for straight ahead? To blindly put one foot in front of the other while praying you won't call off some invisible cliff to your death. How could anyone know what you're feeling if all you do is smile, or at least show no emotion, on the outside? They can't. None can know what's beneath your skin, whether it be guilt, passion, or lust- something is there.
"Fighting for your homelands is the noble thing to do, be remembered for a few years as that soldier who died for a cause that may or may not be relevant. Or maybe that thief who stole from the rich and gave to the poor, he was still a thief, right? Or what about that merchant who supplied all of those people supplies while the neighboring cities laid in siege? He was a hero, right?
Well, this is my story, and if you think I'm a hero afterwards, then I will call you a liar or an idiot. If you see me as the bastard I am, then I have no words for you, as you have already made up your mind on what kind of person you believe I am to be."
"What do you mean you don't have the money," the massive giant-like Nord stood in front of the Imperial. His voice was hushed and full of daggers and his silver eyes pierced the dark ovals as the Imperial's voice rang out.
"I-I'll have it by next week, I swear!" the Imperial pleaded, raising his arms up to his chest and clasping them together, begging.
"If I gave you time past your due date then I would be running a shit-show, now wouldn't I?" the Nord growled, parting two thin lips to show teeth as white as snow.
"B-Bosch, please!" the Imperial had thrown himself to the ground, his voice full of sobs. "Think of my wife, my children!"
Bosch took only a few quick strides before he crossed the distance between them but the Imperial's face was too busy being pushed into the rug as he sobbed. Squatting down, and using his hands to hold him just inches from the ground, Bosch soundlessly closed in on the Imperial's ear and smirked, "What family?"
The Imperial almost jumped out of his skin when Bosch's voice cut through the air. "No, you wouldn't dare!" his voice was full of anger, but the instant paling of his skin told otherwise. "Would you?" Now the Imperial's voice was bled dry, as if it had gone with his courage and complexion.
"I don't know, did I?" Bosch moved back some, still that smirk lining his face. Pale blonde hair littered his chiseled jaw line and a mass of blonde hair heaped upon his head. It was shorter than how most Nord's kept it, but it wasn't a close shave by any means. Though, he did have this rough demeanor about him, his armor screamed business. Iron everywhere, form-fitting, and scratches and gouges from battles scarred the thing. Even a long, tethered cape draped onto the ground, lined with thin fur. This was for looks of course, as he could stay warm in the coldest of climates.
"Look, I don't have time for this. If I give you one more week and you come up empty handed, I'll cut your fucking head off myself, got it?" Bosch said almost casually, but at the end he locked eyes with the man. The Imperial just nodded and put his face back into the rug to sob some more.
When Bosch is called a giant, they're far from exaggerating. Some doors he had to duck under, he had specially tailored clothing, and his armor is one of a kind. Standing at 6'6" (1.9 meters), the Nord was rather intimidating. Although he had handsome features, his reputation turned those what might be innocent smirks to daggers waiting to pop out of his mouth.
Bosch was once an outcast like most awkward children, but something happened that changed his life. Now, he is the head of the most notorious bandit group in all of Skyrim. Based in an abandoned fort outside of Windhelm Bosch had his own little kingdom, his army of bandits, his chef, his stable-hand, and lastly the throne room. Bosch never really cared for power though, he thought he was better than everyone else but he didn't want to be king or emperor, he just wanted gold. To have power by wealth was his dream.
