"Blood and silver are what flows through Markarth, friend."

There's an old saying in Markarth, 'the Silver-Bloods are the law', and you would do well to remain in their good graces. I was not a native of the reach, nor had I known the horrors of the hold, both inside and out, until it was to late. I was of the capital, where my father, Stoik the Saber, made a life's work as a blacksmith. My name is, or was, Fiona. I was his eldest daughter with two younger twins; Hilda and Diane. Our mother died around the time of their eighth winter, and it was expected of me to raise my siblings.

Around my nineteenth birthday I had met a young Breton, named Quinn, had fallen hard for him, and after a few months, a few drunken escapades, and learning that you could lose your virginity in more then one way, we had wed. Quinn owned property in Markarth, and convinced the rest of my family to come live with us there. Had I been clairvoyant I'd have convinced him to live in the warmth of Solitude, but as it were, we were just a few seasons from being homeless, and it felt like a wonderful idea at the time.

The city of stone, its people as cold and unwavering as its walls. In this place, I faced a beast more horrid and vile then any dragon or daedra, this saber would sink its teeth into the Silver-Bloods throat.

To anybody who read this, please tell me what you think of the prologue, it helps me work up the drive to continue. Also as a bonus, here's a picture of Fiona, it's based a good bit after the events of Markarth but... yeah