Once there was a lad. He had beautiful, long, ginger hair- that only reached his shoulders- that seemed to glisten in the sun. This worked well with his kawii, grey eyes; don't ask how they work well together, just go with it. His name was simply, Jimbob. His parents may or may not have been wasted when naming him and cba to rename him.

One day, he woke up and was like
"My G, you wanna go play Skyrim?" To himself. Don't jugde.
"Heyll yeah!" He responded to himself, eyes sparkling like an anime character due to the enthusiasm. After having a full discussion with himself, he loaded Skyrim.

Eventually, he got to design his character. Hastily, he picked an argonian. He spent a whole hour designing it.

Suddenly, he begun to feel very strange. He watched on horror as his body became coloured swirls that absorbed into the game. A tingly feeling went through his body as he changed shape into the character he created.

When it was over, he looked down at himself and attempted to scream, realising he couldn't. Heck, he couldn't even talk!

Hadvar and the woman had finished speaking and he was to be sent to the executioner. He stood there emotionless and wanting to panic but being incapable. The Ai forced to follow the lady. He tried as hard as he could to fight against it, wanting to attempt to flee.

General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak were arguing. Well, Tullius was criticising Ulfric and Ulfric couldn't speak. The most Jimbob could do is turn his head.

The priest had begun her holy thing. A guy interupted and wanted to get it over with. The executioner mercilessly decapitated him and the lady kicked his corpse so it fell limp on the ground.
"Next, the lizard!" She called out. His heart didn't simply skip a beat, it skipped 10 beats. If he could shake, he would. If he could wail, he would. If he could run, he would.

The only thing he could do was struggle against the Skyrim Ai. He tried, but to no avail. Once he knelt down, he accepted his fate. He had never played Skyrim before so he didn't know that you get saved by the dragon that wants you dead.

As the executioner readied his axe, an enormous, ebony dragon with glowing red eyes had emerged from a mountain. It swooped down, landing on a building, causing the ground to shake. When it shouted, the ground shook harder, as if it was trembling. Jimbob rolled onto his side, impacting with a pile of hay, and the part stone, part soil ground underneath.

Skip tutorial because I don't want it to be too long.

The pair had arrived outside, finally breathing fresh, Skyrim air. It was satisfying, especially after what they had been through. Sneaking past a bear, slaughtering giant spiders- Jimbob mentally gagged from the memory-, and killing two people.
"Alright, well you can find my *not important to this story character* in Riverwood. I'm sure *they'll* be willing to help. Meet you there!" The guy yelled as he already began running away. Jimbob was alone. Finally, he could control everything, he's just not very good at using a bow. That's an understatement, he's shit.

He checked his journal to find another quest. It was called "Tamriel Tourist." The description read "Why am I here, in the land of Skyrim. I should investigate. Maybe this convinient quest marker can show me where to go." His first task read "Go to Swindler's den."

Once he activated the quest, he ran towards the marker, looking almost like an elk running. Just prancing about.

He ran into a village, and spoke to an elf.
"Have I seen you talking to Sven. Maybe, maybe not. I would stay away from him if I were you," he stated.
"Hey, I need your help. Could you show me where Swindler's den is?" Jimbob asked, finally having the freedom of speech.
"Could you do something for me first? I need you to deliver this letter to Carmilla. Say it's from Sven," he replied, sheepishly handing him the letter before he could protest. Sighing with annoyance the whole way there, he handed her the letter, saying Sven was too lazy to deliver his own shitty mail. She thanked him, only for him to leave before she got halfway through her sentence.

Time skip because why wouldn't I skip time?

They arrived at Swindler's den, Jimbob armed with a steel warhammer, and Fandael with his trusty hunter bow. Both looked very dramatic and heroic as the breeze blew leaves around them, and the sun seemed to shower upon them, maybe wishing the noble duo luck in there treacherous journey. Yeah right, only a crazy person would think of it like that. Sane people would just describe it as two dudes entering a cave but waiting around too long, failing at looking dramatic or heroic. Anyway, that's not what's important, the point is, the pair were ready to delve into the cave, facing off against bandits or other minor foes. They hastily entered, not without killing the guards that stood at the entrance, talking about some orc frowning and someone having to die.

The cave was rather dark, only a few torches and candles lighting it up. Pebbles fell down, making quiet noises on the soft soil. They swiftly skittered around, killing all who opposed them, AKA everyone in the cave. After all that bullshit, they had finally reached their destination. It was the dastardly, dreaded... Dooh-Dooh. He wore black robes, that appeared 'slightly' over-sized on his small stature. Did I forget to mention, he's diminutive... he's unusually short. God, learn some new words! I actually Google short synonyms. Anyway, his hair was a greasy white with blue highlights. His stern eyes were albino. He had equipped himself with a normal sized sword, which appeared a bit heavy for him, and a fire spell.

Without a second of hesitation, he charged at Jimbob, swinging the sword, only managing to rattle the metal slightly. He kept trying for a couple minutes before completely giving up, sweat beading down his forehead as he panted.
"Can I just go home?" Jimbob asked, face-palming at his vain-filled attempts.
"No!... I... will beat... you! Just... give me... a sec!" He bawled through his desperate pants. He wasn't as intimidating as expected. He pushed out his hand, fire appearing. However, it was going in a straight line, so Jimbob easily avoided it.
"Done?" He asked, a bit dissapointed that this guy is who brought him here. He had zero muscle, or even fat. His bones were well defined though. The guy was really scrawny. Dooh-Dooh seemed to grind his yellow teeth together as his gaze met his adversary, who remained unharmed. Not a single scale had been damaged. He broke out into childish screams and stamping.
"Can I go home? Your not going to win," Jimbob sighed, having to raise his voice to even hear himself over the rage of the slim over-grown baby that continued to blare before him.
"Fine! I don't need you anyway!" He pouted, casting a spell on him.

Later, he woke up at home, in bed. Was it all a dream? Probably was. It was late in the afternoon, but he went back to sleep anyway.

1260 words

He felt something move in the bed with him. His eyes fluttered open to see that scrawny kid. He screamed with suprise and lept out if the bed.