From the very moment he learned the ancient powers of Dragon Shouts, he had used them day in and day out, against all kinds of enemies.
Magic long since forgot, coming from the very depths of his being. Screaming out words of power, which granted him abilities to attack his enemies and defend himself from the world around him.
Traveling far, hurling his opponents back with mighty force, project spells of both ice and fire, shouting in this sacred, ancient language protected him on every step of the way,
granting him abilities most humans would consider god-like.
The only problem? His throat is sore every single day!
That day, he woke up with a particularly nasty sore throat.
He could barely speak at all, his voice raspy and low when he attempted to order breakfast in the local inn he had been staying in for the last few days.
His throat hurt like hell, and he asked himself if this was the right day to go out on adventures. Perhaps he should order some tea with honey and lemon and rest his throat.
In the distance, though, he could already hear the screams of innocent villagers. They were in danger, as always, and he was the only one capable of intervening. He and his throat.
He sighed, clearing his throat and feeling a sharp pain emanating from it. This was going to be a long day.