Just some slightly important info about Nayeon. 3029 words of important information. 

~ (9 years ago)

The land of the Reach was once occupied by natives, but because of its strategic location between the neighboring country, as well as for its rich silver mines, it caused the two provinces to fight over its ownership. Over the years of fighting, the intermingling of invaders and natives in the region began to create a regionally distinct race called the "Reachmen." This diversity encouraged the development of a unique culture over a period of centuries. 

These men and women of the Reach were expelled from power and culturally ostracized after the invaders' conquest of the Reach. Despite all this, they still view the entirety of the hold as their ancestral land and do not accept the new occupation of the region, or the Empire's legal authority over it. 

They briefly succeeded in taking control of Markarth, until mercenaries were hired by the Empire to retake the city, causing the death of many Reachmen in the battle to reclaim the Stone City. Since then, they have taken on the name of "The Forsworn" and have organized and formed a resistance; attempting to infiltrate Markarth, occupying the nearby forts and outposts, attacking its supply lines and its neighboring mines, all in an effort to weaken the Empire's control of the region.

As a child, Nayeon grew up in the countryside working on her family's farm. Her father taught her to observe the seasons to know what day was perfect for planting and what day was perfect for harvest. Mr. Im made sure all his children knew how to defend themselves in case of a Forsworn attack. But no matter how hard he tried to protect his family, they still fell to the wrath of the Forsworn.

Nayeon was the only Im to survive the attack. She was out plowing the field when she saw smoke in the distance. Running back to find her family, the 14-year-old returned to the burnt remains of her home and the charred corpses of her father, mother, and little sister. 

She stayed by their side until it started raining and the soot run-off from the house had pooled around the Ims. Nayeon knew there was nothing she could do for them now and began to search through the remains of the house to find anything useful. With what little gold she had in her pockets and the iron dagger she found, Nayeon began the trek to the city of Markarth.

On the way, a pack of starving wolves attacked Nayeon from the cliffs. She fought them off, but not unscathed; the wolves had bitten a chunk of flesh out of the side of her leg, as well as two long scratches starting from her right ear all the way across her cheek stopping just past her lower lip. Nayeon limped the rest of the way to the City of Stone, but once she arrived her trouble wasn’t over yet. 

~ ~ ~

Markarth was built around a large rock formation with twin rivers flowing between the lower valley and the upper path. The city is divided into two distinct districts, each separated by the large crag in the middle of the city. To the north is the Dry-side, which contains the market square, as well as, residential homes. The Dry-side in itself is divided, with both an upper and lower level. The lower level is more or less a path to Understone Keep while the upper level contains more homes.

To the south is the Riverside, which is a vast basin, essentially the industrial district of Markarth. Streets descend downwards towards the smelter and the infamous Cidhna Mina, which serves as the local prison. The poor and working class of Markarth live here, in underground slums.

Nayeon entered through the city gates into the Dry-side market square where many residents shopped at the stalls. Not even three seconds after she arrived, a man among the crowd drew a steel dagger and snuck up behind a woman at a jewelry cart. He grabbed her shoulder and drove the dagger into her back while yelling “For the Forsworn!”

The crowds of shoppers went into a frenzy and rushed to flee the market and into the streets of Markarth, consequentially, dragging a wounded Nayeon along with them. She was pushed and pulled by the current of bodies until finally, she escaped the crowd. To not be into the mass again, Nayeon reached for the nearest door and entered the building. 

Inside, the house was a mess: bowls and plates are strewn across the floor, dressers are hung open with clothing haphazardly laying about. Moldy food covered the counters and floor below, chairs are flipped and the stone tables are covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. 

Nayeon gazed around the room but decided to stay where she was, she didn’t want to stray too far into the seemingly abandoned house and get lost. She slid down against the metal door listening to the screams of passerby and shouts of guards trying and failing to control the chaos outside. 

The long treck was finally taking a hold on Nayeon as the adrenaline from the market square was wearing off. Her head drooped in exhaustion and her eyelids grew heavy. As she began drifting into an exhaustion induced slumber, she failed to notice a bucket in the corner of the room begin to glow and jerk around.

~ ~ ~

The clang of a metal tankard falling on stone floor woke up the 14-year-old. She scanned the room for the cause of the sound but was only met with silence. Getting up from her spot against the door, she turned and leaned the side of her head against the door listening to the streets outside. When she heard no muffled screams of terror she opened the door. Or at least she tried to. It seemed to be jammed shut and no matter how hard she pulled it wouldn’t budge. Nayeon began to yell for help, her fists banging against the metal door hoping that someone, anyone could hear her.

“Is someone there?” A male voice asked slightly muffled by the door.

“Yes! Please help me! I'm stuck in here!” Nayeon called out to her rescuer.

“Okay, hold on. I’m going to get you out of there.” The man on the other side of the door calmly told her.  She heard grunts coming from outside as the man tried to open the metal door. The crash of a wine bottle shattering on the floor was heard behind Nayeon the same moment the door flew open. The momentum from the door suddenly flying open caused the man to fall in front of her. 

“Thank you so much.” Nayeon helped the man stand up who, now that she could see him, was in Markarth guard attire. 

“All in a days work. How long have you been in here?” The guard asked while dusting himself off.

“I don’t know. I hid in here after the market attack, but fell asleep against the door not long after.” She told him.

“Hmm, well let's get out of here and over to the Silverblood inn to get you all cleaned up.” He reached for the handle only to have the door suddenly slam shut before he could grab it. 

The lanterns burst to life and cast the abandoned room in hazy orange light. Items started to fall from the already messy shelves and the newly ignited lanterns flickered. One of the goblets that had fallen off of the stone tables rolled on the ground until it came in contact with Nayeon’s foot, where it rolled back then against her foot again. A deep demonic voice was heard in Nayeon’s mind:

“Weak. He’s weak. You’re strong. Crush him.”

Items around the house began floating in the air. Buckets were banging together with brooms and tankards zoomed around the room. The guard was struggling with the door as a rotten tomato exploded against the cabinet behind him. The cabinet that was once full of dusty books that were now strewn across the room.

“Help me get this door open!” The guard yelled while barely avoiding a plate flying at his head. The voice resonated through Nayeons mind again:

“No. Kill him crush his bones. Rip at his flesh. You will kill.”

Panicking, Nayeon drew her dagger from its holster, “Get out of my head!” Nayeon yells into the chaotic room but the only response she gets is a wheel of rotten goat cheese flying into the wall to her right and breaking into smaller chunks. She turns and starts pulling on the door with the guard

“You will kill, or you will be killed!”

Nayeon lets go of the door and fell to the floor grabbing her head, shouting at the unknown entity to get out of her head. Looking up to see the guard still struggling with the door and random objects still flying around through the air, she realizes there is only one way out. 

Raising her dagger, she stabbed it into the guards back. Pulling it out only to plunge it back in again and again until the guard is slumped on the stone floor in a pool of his own blood. The items in the room halt all motion and fall to the floor in unison. 

“Yes. Your reward is waiting, mortal.” 

Nayeon dropped the bloody dagger and sinks to the floor. Her entire body was shaking and tears were running down her face. 

“Further down.”

Her body unconsciously follows the instructions echoing through her mind and stands to venture deeper into the abandoned house. When she makes it all the way to the basement floor, she finds a hole that looked recently dug and rubble from the building thrown to the side alongside piles of dirt. Nayeon follows the subterranean tunnel until she is facing an altar. A rusty mace was displayed on the stand.

“Come take your prize.”

She stepped forward and reached for the rusty mace but before she could touch the aged weapon, spikes shoot up out of the altar and surround Nayeon in a small cage.

“Fool! Did you think that Molag Bal, The Lord of Domination, would so easily reward you? What do you see from that little cage?”

Nayeon looked up from where she was crouching to get a better look at the altar in front of her. The rusty mace magically hovered upright over a sink of blood. The weapon was slowly rotating clockwise, displaying all its sharp edges. But she couldn’t see much more because of the metal spikes trapping her.

“Speak.”

“I-I see an altar?” Nayeon managed to stutter out a reply to the Daedra. 

“Yes. It’s an altar. Men would sacrifice the wretched in my name. The weak would be punished by the strong.” 

The demonic voice of Molag Bal rang throughout her head, “There is also a mace.” She speaks this time without stuttering.

“Rusted. Dry. There was a time when this mace dripped with the blood of the feeble and the worthless.”

“I-I can’t see anything else. Only the spikes of this trap.” Nayeon reached out and ran a finger along one of the spikes, wincing when she accidentally cut her finger.

“Sharp, aren’t they? This was the last thing many saw before they were sacrificed in my name. But a Daedric Lord has his enemies, and my rival Boethiah had her priest desecrate this alter. Left it here to decay. Until you came along.”

The spikes of the alter retracted back into the floor, allowing Nayoen to stand at her full height, “Wh-What do you want then? Revenge?” She weakly questioned the Deadra.

“Revenge? No, I want submission. I want the priest who did this to bend his knee and give me his soul. He comes to preform Boethiah’s insulting rites at my altar, but he has been missing. Captured, bound, and left to rot.” 

Nayeon listened with intent as the voice recited his instructions into her mind. Embedding them deep within her subconscious. A dark mist rose from the floor and engulfed Nayeon’s legs all the way up to her calves. Long strands of the dark mist twist their way up her body up to her head. When the darkness had completely surrounded her, it began seeping into her body and enhancing any small about of magicka she had until she could feel the dark energy pulsing through her body. The wounds on her leg and face had been completely healed, all that remained were scars where the damage once was.

“Save him, let him perform his rite one more time. And when he does. We will be waiting for him.”

Nayeon returned to the entrance of the house where the guard lay dead. She took his sword out of the hilt and swapped it with her dagger. With a better weapon, enhanced magicka, and a mission given to her by a Daedric Lord, She left the house of horrors with purpose.

~ ~ ~

She found the priest held captive in a cave of bandits out in the countryside. The 14-year-old easily snuck past the bulky men to the where the priest was bound in a corner.

“I’m here to rescue you,” Nayeon whispered to the priest. She looked around to see if any of the bandits had noticed her but they seemed to busy drinking by the fire.

“Rescue? No one knew I was taken. Who sent you?” The priest immediately became suspicious of Nayeon and even attempted to move away from her. 

“Does it matter? Here.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out the coin purse she had and set it down in front of the priest. He glanced down at the leather pouch then raised his bound hands towards her. 

“Fine. I won’t ask questions.” When she finishes uniting him, they both slip away behind some tall rock outcrops toward the exit. Once they get outside, the priest starts running to Markarth proclaiming he has to single-handedly save humanity on the name of his beloved Boethiah. Nayeon scowls at his proclamations but follows silently.

Once he reaches the abandoned house, the priest heads straight to the basement. He continues into the subterranean tunnel until he reaches the foot of the altar. Nayeon follows stealthily behind him, never alerting him of her presence. 

As he begins to speak, spikes spring up from the floor and trap the priest inside the sharp edges just as Nayeon had been.

“Molag Bal. You think you can best Boethiah’s faithful?” The priest shouts out at the Daedric Lord from the confines of the cage. 

“Ah. But I have my own champion this time, Park Jimin.”

The sound of Molag Bal’s demonic voice reverberated off the walls of the underground alter. Stepping out of the shadows, Nayeon raised her sword.

“What? Jimin turned his head as best he can to see the girl who saved him creep out of the shadows, “You!”

“Mortal. I give you my mace, in all it’s rusted spitefulness.” 

The sword in Nayeon's hand glowed bright white and flakes away into the air only to be replaced with the rusty mace from the altar. More of the dark mist from before winded itself around her arm, infecting her with even more darkness. 

“Crush the spirit from Park Jimin’s bones. Make him bend to me.”

The Daedra commands and Nayeon follows. A few of the spikes retract to allow her easy access to Jimin. She raised the mace above her head with two hands and brought it down with all her might. The crunch of the priest’s leg echoed around the cavern causing Nayeon to smirk.

“AHH!” Jimin screams in pain but does not submit so Nayeon raised the mace again.

The foot of the altar is soon covered in the blood of the priest, limbs bent ways they shouldn’t, Moans of pain fill the room. One last swing of the mace causes Jimin to slump over. No more sounds can be heard from the priest. Only Nayeon’s heavy breathing from swinging the mace fill the cavern. She looked up from the limp body and wiped away the sweat forming on her brow, smudging blood across her forehead.

The bloody body began to rise off the ground as high as the spiked cage would allow. Glowing. Reviving.

“Weak fragile mortals. Again.”

The defenseless priest shivered in fear and pain as he watched Nayeon raise the mace again. She smashes the weapon down against his back getting the rusty pointed edges stuck in his already bloody flesh. When it is yanked out of his back Nayeon’s ears are met with a screech of pain from the priest.

“Do you bend to me?”

Another swing.

“Yes!”

“Do you pledge your soul to me?”

Another crunch.

“Yes!”

“Do you forsake your pitiful Boethiah?”

Another scream.

“YES!”

“You’re mine now, Park Jimin. Kill him.”

“NO! Stop! Plea-“

A sickening crunch silences the priest as Nayeon brings down the mace.

She removed the mace from what used to be the head of priest Park Jimin, dripping matter onto the liquid red floor. The spikes retracted into the floor once more and the mace in Nayeon’s hand begins to glow.

“The mace of Molag Bal! I give you it’s true power, mortal.”

The mace grows brighter and brighter. So bright that Nayeon had to shield her eyes with her free hand. She felt a stinging sensation in her hand holding the mace and looked down at her arm when the light faded away. The veins in her wrist and hand were glowing green, spreading up her forearm, to her shoulder, up until she couldn’t see the glow because of her sleeves. The once rusty but now polished mace was dripping with the blood of its first victim in centuries.

“When your enemies lie broken and bloody before you, know that I will be watching.”

Nayeon felt the power of the mace seep into her. Spreading from her shoulder throughout her whole body. She felt the need to kill. The need to send more souls to her master. To his dark plane of existence.

“Now, I have a soul in oblivion that needs claiming. Take care of the house while I’m gone. Hahaha!”