First off, it’s really odd applying today’s prompt to Grawnk. Of course, it’s odd period thinking about Grawnk’s history at all. When I first started this blog last February, it was just going to be my version of The Elder Strolls, and not go into Grawnk’s history or anything like that. I guess I just grew too fond of the guy to not flesh him out a little more.
Grawnk is a pretty socially inept Orc, as evidenced by some of his past experiences. So much of his early life was spent on other endeavors, that the social part of his development never really took place. Despite all of this, Grawnk is actually a romantic at heart, thinking often about the fairer sex. Even though he had always entertained the fantasy of being romantically linked with a woman some day, it was always just that: a fantasy.
[Below is my narration of this entry.]
My room in the Bannered Mare comes slowly into focus as I open my eyes. The shadowy tendrils of my dreams swirl around in my memory for a few moments, but they soon dance out of existence, leaving me to wonder why my stomach feels as though it has knots in it. As my grogginess subsides, I quickly remember what today is: the first day of my journey to Dead Men’s Respite. I feel one of the knots tighten. Continue reading
So it would appear I not only have bad timing walking into places, catching townsfolk arguing, but also watching them die. First, I walked into Solitude as someone was getting beheaded, and now I have walked into Markarth to someone getting stabbed.