1 Prologue

Solitude is a major city located in Haafingar on the northwestern shore of Skyrim. It is the largest city in all of Skyrim and is also the capital of the province and seat of the High King of Skyrim. The entire city is built on a natural arch over the Sea of Ghosts and houses many important buildings, such as the headquarters of the Imperial Legion in Skyrim and the Blue Palace. The normally bustling stone streets and lively buildings are now empty, the frigid night air keeping all but the most desperate indoors next to their fires.

One sound could be heard over the crackling fires in the houses and the inns' late patrons boisterous singing. The sound of hurried footsteps on a cold paved road. A woman, carrying some wrapped item could be seen running through the streets. Her tattered drab clothes hiding her figure as she ran.

She kept glancing back as if running from someone, or something. Even when nothing could be seen, she did not slow her pace; in fact, she only increased it, knowing her destination was close. As she neared closer and closer to the end of Solitude, back towards the Blue Palace. She bent down mid-run and gently left the bundled item by a building in a dark corner. Never slowing down as she continued onward.

She neared the far back wall of the city and ran straight towards the wall with no sign of stopping. Right before impact, she vanished, then reappeared on the other side still running. As she neared the edge of the cliff the city was situated on. A figure appeared before her, forcing her to stop her mad dash.

"Halt, you knew you could not escape us. So, tell me, why did you run?" The hooded figure said.

The woman only snarled in response, unsheathing a dagger that was hidden beneath her clothes.

"Typical Nord response. I had such high hopes for you Aliss. But because of your actions, I have no choice" A smile crept onto the hooded figures face, unseen by Aliss.

In the next moment, lighting shot from his hands dancing across the space in less than a second. Only to explode the dirt where Aliss had been. Aliss snarled and leaped forward casting a bright light to appear in from of the hooded figure. It blinded the man, his black robes with intricate gold lacing revealed. His angled features and pointed ears revealing his identity as an Altmer.

Blinded briefly by the light he threw up a ward around him and braced for an attack. It never came. When his eyes finally adjusted, he looked around, seeing nothing he tried detecting any life in the area. When that didn't work, he closed his eyes and felt the magicka in the air, searching for disturbances caused by the use of magic.

Nothing, she was gone.

His face twisting into a snarl the Altmer looked around one last time, then vanished.

Back in the city, a man burst out of his house scanning the area. He glanced up and down the empty street for the source of the explosion. His wife said he was just hearing things, but years of honing his instincts through war told him otherwise.

A flash of light was briefly visible past the city walls towards the cliff face. With his sword in hand, the man sprinted towards it. His muscled body making his steps seem almost like leaps, and his athletic grace keeping an expert stride. He was covered in only his underclothes and shoes, but that's all he would need for some troublemakers or even a few brave, but stupid bandits.

He reached the nearest guard tower and ran up the stairs and onto the city wall, then continued to the source of the light. The man seemed eager to fight, his blood boiling after too many years sitting around doing paperwork. He never allowed his sedentary job to ruin his hard-earned body, keeping to a workout routine to stay in top shape.

When he finally reached the edge of the city, he looked towards the cliff edge. Then around the nearby area. Then he paced twenty meters to either side but saw nothing to explain the explosion and strange bright light. Finally giving up he headed home, maybe his wife was right. Maybe he was just wishing for something to do.

On the way back he kept to a casual stroll, not in a hurry to be cramped in his house while he enjoyed one of his few free moments. As he neared his home, he heard a cry. He stopped and listened, but heard nothing more, so he continued. Then he heard it again, this time louder. Musing to himself that he was getting crazy he jogged towards the noise, following the periodic cries for help. The ones only an infant could make. As that thought crossed his mind he broke into a run, determined to find the baby before it could freeze.

Then he saw it, a bundle of cloths and rags, in a dark corner by a building off the main road. He crept closer and called out.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

Hearing no response but the baby's he stooped down and picked it up. Moving to the light of the moon he looked upon its face to reveal a pair of sparkling pale blue eyes with dark brown hair. The baby's paler skin and slimmer body hinted at a Breton heritage.

The man headed to the cities orphanage and left the baby in its care, naming it Brom when the caretaker insisted it must have a name. He then headed back home, the night's strange events rolling around in his head.