PROLOGUE:


My name is Sonja Jarlsdottir, and this is my tale. You may not know me now, but by the time it is finished, all of Skyrim will know my name. Talos willing, the Emperor himself will quake at its mention. Titus Mede II has no idea of the chaos he brought upon his lands by his thoughtless actions years ago.

My life began 21 years ago on a farm slightly to the north of Leyawiin. I was born into a Nord family with three older brothers already waiting to test my mettle from the day I took my first teat. The Great War had already ended well before I'd even been dreamt of by the Divines. While the Great War had left our holdings relatively unscathed by its horrors, both my parents and grandparents held a fire in their hearts that I could never have truly grasped at that young age.

I grew up learning to say "Eight Divines" when we were in the company of others. As a child, I could never understand why it seemed my elders were so disgusted by the word "Eight". They practically spat it out of their mouths.

When I was ten or so, my curiousity got the better of me, and I asked my father if he was angry with the Divines. That was when he told me of Talos. That was when I was taken to a long closed-off barn on the property and shown the altar-the FORBIDDEN altar. That was the moment my life changed. A fire of a greater purpose began to burn in my veins.

Encouraged by my parents, I began to read rather voraciously about Tiber Septim. Anything I could get my hands on, I read over and over, committing the words to memory. I read of his life in Skyrim, when he was known simply as Talos, then of his uniting of the empire and his coronation as the first Emperor, Tiber Septim, and finally of his welcoming entrance into the pantheon of the Divines.

That was when the weight of what the elves of the Aldmeri Dominion had accomplished truly was clear to me. By the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, Talos was no longer to be worshipped as one of the Divines. While I, like all children, had grown up with the spectre of Imperial or Aldmeri justiciars taking citizens away never to be seen again, it had never felt so unjust to me as the day I learned what their "heresy" truly was.

When the Empire surrendred to the Aldmeri Dominion, it was not Titus Mede II who suffered. It was the common man, woman, and child who bore the brunt of the punishment. Of those commoners, none suffered more than those of Nord blood. We were robbed of our right to worship the greatest of men-the greatest of OUR men-and branded heretics for OUR faith!

As I grew older, I gained my father's muscled frame and the fiery temperament of any good Nord woman. It became a struggle to hold my tongue when I heard "Eight Divines" in the market square. There are NOT eight Divines! There are NINE, so long as a single Nord might hold Talos sacred and divine in their heart!

I couldn't help but feel destined for something greater than the life of a simple mother and housewife as I neared my 18th birthday. Not that I seek to dishonor a woman for being a good mother and wife...simply it seemed too mundane for me. As word came from distant cousins in Skyrim of the growing tensions in the land, that same fire which welled up in me when I'd learned of the true injustice done to Talos rose up once more.

I began to ache for a land I'd never laid eyes on and for mountains I'd never climbed. I longed for a homeland I'd been born to, but not born in. I started to train, first in secret, then with the help of my brothers. I learned how to handle blade and bow, and how to move with speed and grace despite the weight of armor hindering me.

My parents knew what lay in store for me. No matter how hard I'd tried to conceal it from them, they loved me and could see my heart as easily as if it had been held in their own briast. Mother, knowing that one day I'd follow my dream, took me under her wing, teaching me the first magick ever mastered by man-alchemy. She showed me how to grind ingredients with a mortar and pestle, and how to test with the smallest of nibbles what properties plant and animal material might contain.

While I distrust magic for a number of reasons, alchemy holds no fear for me. It takes things that are natural and simply reveals the hidden features that not every man or woman might see at a glance. It doesn't require any dark bargains with the Beyond. It doesn't lead to the temptation of murder for greater power. Alchemy simply IS. As my mother put it, "Alchemy is simply cooking with food that isn't."

When the news spread of Ulfric Stormcloak killing High King Torygg and open warfare for the fate of Skyrim, my heart leapt. I knew this was the sign I'd been waiting for. When troops from Cyrodiil began to march to Skyrim, and bards began to sing songs calling Ulfric a traitor, I had my final confirmation.

Skyrim was teetering on the brink of bloodshed on a grand scale. It was my duty to go-not just for myself and my family. It was not just for my ancestors, my homeland, or MY Divine Talos. It was for all things, things which combined became greater than themselves. It was a divine alchemy, if you will.

I NEEDED to go, to lend my sword to Ulfric Stormcloak and his righteous cause. Skyrim NEEDED to be freed from the treachery of the dying Empire who had betrayed her. She NEEDED to be free to choose her own destiny. Most of all, Talos MUST be restored to His rightful place amongst the divines. I pray that the Divines will protect me.