Alternate Reality 1: The Tiny Berserker

Grub was born the runt, just like he was in the normal story but instead of hitting the books and trying to learn he became angry. He was a barely controlled animal for lack of a better phrasing and constantly fought his brother. When the Breton soldiers attacked his fathers keep he was inside training with an ax and was in his full armor. When the first volley of spells crashed over the wall he reacted quickly. His instincts took over and he flew into a berserk rage, while he fought the invading Breton at the choke point of the main gate savagely his brothers and father mounted a successful defense and the fortress stood through the storm. After that his fathers fame grew and he amassed enough Orcs to found a legitimate stronghold. Year went by and he and his tribe raided the surrounding area, pillaging and destroying everything they wanted.

Part 3: Application Season

Grub woke up with a groan his leg throbbed with a dull ache and he sat up and gingerly touched it. It flared in protest and he pulled his hand away quickly. He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his crutch and stood up slowly and hobbled out into the commons area of the Inn. He saw Klem and his band with their gear gathered by the door. Klem spotted him and walked over and placed one of his meaty hands on his shoulder and said softly “Grub, I’m glad your up. I just wanted to tell you again that I hope you put your training to good use. If you ever go to Windhelm try to get a hold of me. I will be there for a few months tending to my mother. Maybe the next time I see you, you will be a master healer and can help some people, gods know Skyrim needs more people to heal the wounded.”

Part 2: Bitten By Frost

Grub slowly faded into consciousness, the blackness of his sleep peeling away and the bright glare of the sun pouring in through the window on the wall blinding him. He rolled onto his side and winced when pain from his leg shot through him. He gingerly lifted the sheet draped over him and looked down in horror what was left of his right leg. From the middle of his calf down there was nothing, the stump wrapped in blood soaked linen. Grub fought the encroaching faintness he felt but couldn’t stop it and he quickly passed out.

Part 1: Shipwreak

Grub was weary when he awoke on the fifth day of his journey to Skyrim. He couldn’t sleep on this miserable boat and the weather was getting rough. He rolled out of his bunk and went up onto the deck to ask Tuzeka how far they were from Windhelm. The Argonian looked out to the coast and said “Only a few hours I think, maybe more with this weather coming. You should get below deck though, don’t need any of our customers getting washed away. Bad for business”

Grub chuckled and said “Alright then Tuzeka, I think I will try to grab a few more hours of sleep.”