Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Father Grek was brought awake by a sudden breeze of gasoline-lessness, upon a marvelous city with a tall spire wherein he thought his destiny resided, but fates had a different taste to his future, one of rats, one of stench, one of being called ugly by a filthy loser.
But in the despair would be hope and rage that’d fuel the quest of freedom and achieving the initial ambitions that were dangled in front of him like carrot on a branch. For Oblivion would fear his breath. Like literally.