"We're routed, fall back!" a lone surviving bandit shouted desperately as he gripped his bleeding, shattered arm. He jumped over a log that had fallen outside of Falkreath, the sunset shining a crimson light through the emerald trees. Just as he thought he had escaped his fate, an orcish arrow flew into his back, knocking the air out of his body as he dropped to the floor letting out a scream as he quickly died in the brush.
Lydia slowly moved out of her archery posture and gave a smug smile to the Dovahkiin as he nodded gratefully, sheathing his blood soaked dwarven sword. The dragonborn was a well built Nord man in his early 30s named Fenrir. He had bright blonde hair down to his upper chest and a beard that had been braided into a knot. Females of every species would constantly give him double-takes, even without knowing of who he truly was. He had a preference for heavy armor and two handed weapons, but wasn't unfamiliar with shields and one handed weapons. And for that reason, he would prefer archers and mages as his companions. He had an inborn aura that emanated from him thanks to his dragonblood that would have an effect on nearby female hormones. Fenrir was well aware of the attraction females would have for him and Lydia was no different. Constantly staring at him when he wasn't looking and making sexual innuendos whenever possible.
The dragonborn had broken off of many of his quests to take out the time to explore Skyrim. There was something else he couldn't understand. His dragon blood had made him incredibly virile and fertile. It was as if an unknown voice in his head calling out for him to pursue recreation above all else. Perhaps it was the dragon blood hoping to spread out in order to increase it's chances of survival. It was no wonder, seeing as how the last person of dragonblood was Martin Septim, hundreds of years before.
The pair had found a local bandit raid camp that consisted of three tents huddled around a campfire that had just been started. The tents had belonged to the unfortunate bandits that had attacked them mere minutes ago. "Come Lydia, let's take over this spot for them."
"Right behind you, Fenrir." she said without hesitation as she sat down and began to take off her iron boots.
Night had fallen and the two sat around the campfire, roasting a rabbit the bandits had poached talking for hours on end. The two finally quietly sat in the darkness as Lydia looked up and smiled to Fenrir as he smiled back, feeling the sexual urges within himself. The pair had changed into their night clothes but Fenrir couldn't help notice her beautiful complexion in the her blue gown that dropped to her knees brightened by the fire. "You have quite a beauty to you Lydia." Fenrir said bluntly.
"Thank you, my thane." she said smiling back to him. "You know, there is something about you that makes me feel...warm inside."
"Is that so?"
