The wind felt nice sometimes, but when the wind carried fire, it wasn't. That being said, the dragon

overhead was becoming quite a nuisance. Dalthe ducked behind a stone as the fire-breather breathed in

her direction. The flames flew around the rock, the heat scorched her skin but not as badly as a

direct hit would. Damn this thing! Dragons were supposed to be dead, not flying around like they owned

the place. She'd just been trying to get to town, but nooo, the damn thing had to see her out of all

the guards that were trying to take it down. She was the target.

Dalthe let out a small curse, trying to figure out how to proceed. She pulled out an arrow and notched

it, taking aim once the flames died. She shot the dragon, getting a hit on it's teeth as it roared,

but no damage was done. "DAMN LIZARD! DIE!" She roared back at it.

The guards from the town kept shooting at the dragon that was solely focused on Dalthe. Most arrows

barely made a dent though. Dalthe dropped her bow, unsheathed her enchanted great sword and charged the

beast. Dalthe loved to fight, it was one of her favorite things. The adrenaline was thrilling and the

way blood splattered over her leather armor when she cut through her foes was delicious. She loved the

noise and metallic smell battle brought. Dalthe made it within feet of the dragon, the tip of her

sword reaching just ahead of her stabbing into the beasts snout. "HAHA," she jeered. "Got yeh now!"

The beast growled, flapping it's wings and taking off gracefully into the sky. Dalthe watched as the

dragon flew circles higher and higher into the sky, looking down on the ground. Arrows were shot and

missed, Dalthe's vision faded to just the dragon. A chaotic grin was split on her face, she was blood

thirsty and lived very up to the Nord standard of foolish and barbaric.

The dragon swooped quickly down. Fire fell across the grasses of the field as it headed for Dalthe.

She dodged to the left quite a distance, licking her dry lips in anticipation for the right moment.

She sheathed her great sword and pulled a very decorated looking dagger from her boot. "Gonna be fun,"

she growled, eyes wide.

The dragon landed just ahead of Dalthe on the fallen crest of the tower it had toppled. Dalthe

charged, feet bringing her quickly to the dragon's head. It swiped to the side, trying to bite down on

her, but missed by a hair. "Not so fast big boy," Dalthe laughed. She jumped the dragon then. Right

onto it's neck, her legs straddling on either side. Dalthe was about ready to stab into the scales

when she had to grab on or fall off the creature. "Ahahaha, So that's how we play!"

Dalthe gripped tightly around the massive neck, locking her hand around her wrist to not let go as

easily. The dragon tried to get her to fall off. To no avail, even as it flipped through the air.

"LAND," Dalthe yelled above the fierce wind from flying around. She hadn't expected the wind to bite

this much up here. "FIGHT ME YOU COWARD!"

The dragon roared, flying in circles. Dalthe couldn't keep enough balance on the dragon to stab at it.

Minus the fact that she'd dropped her dagger in surprise on takeoff, so that idea was out. She bit the

dragon and met smooth scales. One of the guards got lucky and hit the dragon in the wind with an

arrow. The dragon howled and spiraled down a short distance to the ground. The impact jostled Dalthe

enough to force her onto the ground. Dust settled around her and the dragon as they both growled.

Dalthe darted to her feet when she regained her bearings.

The dragon was breathing fire straight ahead at the guards. Dalthe took this ample distraction to

charge the dragon with her sword in the air. She swiped her sword straight down as she leapt into the

air towards it's head. The sword went straight through the thin flesh with a soft squelch. The dragon

let out a soft final roar as it died, Dalthe grinning all the while. "Now that," she cheered, ripping

her sword free of the head. "Was a damn good fight."

The guards started to gather around her, cheering. She cheered with them, then a thought came to mind.

"Which one shot the arrow," she yelled over the din of noise.

While many would try to claim it was them, these nords held their honor on their sleeves and pushed

one of the masked brethren towards Dalthe. "Good shot lad," Dalthe said, grabbing onto his arm. "You

nearly felled the beast yourself."

The guard grabbed her arm in return and nodded. "Thank yeh miss, but that champion feat goes to yeh.

Not I."

Dalthe laughed heartily. "True, but it was good fight for all," she replied jovially.

Everything was silent for a moment after that as what sounded like a fire started to roar behind them

all, right where the dragon lay dead. Dalthe turned about and stared openly as the corpse started to

flake off like embers in a fire. All stepped back as the roaring gained intensity and became louder

and louder. What was..

A light of many colors swirled off the dragon as it become nothing but bones. The light flowed as if

sentient towards Dalthe and enveloped her. She jumped surprised. Then let out a noise as her skin

heated, the lights passed into her body. She could feel it in her bones, flowing hotly through her

veins. The roaring was so loud in her ears she couldn't hear herself think. Then it was gone just like

that. The warmth in her bones lingered, but the sound was gone.

The guard whom shot the dragon stared on with disbelief. That was evident in all those around him.

"It.. it can't be. You're Dragonborn!"

Dalthe turned back to them, about to say something when her mind was assaulted with a word she didn't

understand. The word made her want to scream. Her throat itched and burned. So she turned her head to

the sky and shouted, "FUS!" There was a rush of wind from her shout, bursting through the air loudly

and even visibly. She stared at the space amazed for a few moments. "Did I do that?"

"There! You did it! You shouted!" The guard said amazed. Here was the legendary dragonborn of old,

standing not two paces away.

"I did, didn't I?" Dalthe laughed. She looked pleased with herself. It wasn't everyday you found you

were like the old tales your parents told as children. "Exhilarating!"

Many days after finding out she was Dragonborn, Dalthe had met with the old Greybeards at High

Hrothgar. She learned more on shouts and what they called "The Way of the Voice". She delved easily

into their teachings, enjoying every minute of it. She felt exhilarated each time she used a shout,

her blood hummed each time.

Dalthe went on a few fetch quests for them, getting mixed up with a few people from the "Blades" in

the process. After a few months, she learned a few more shouts from dungeon crawls, unexpectedly

mostly and went through the ordeal with the world eater, Alduin. Now that was a fight she would never

forget, especially after seeing what awaited her in Sovngarde.

Dalthe sat back on a bench off the road somewhere between Falkreath and Markarth. Well, not really off

the road she mused, more like a hike up some mountains, but regardless. She stretched her muscles,

just enjoying the view. It was peaceful on mountains. The wind blew gently this day and there were

patchy clouds in the sky, making the scene below even more beautiful to her. Dalthe enjoyed the days

as they came because there might not be tomorrow.

She was having a pleasant replay of killing Alduin, eyes closed when someone speaking from behind

interrupted her. She looked back only mildly irritated, but more curious as to who was this far off

the beaten path. She was met with some strange masked and robed figures. She couldn't really tell their gender, though that was probably the point. The masks they wore looked quite like those of the dragon priests... Were they dragon priests?

Dalthe frowned. "Can I help you," she asked.

"Are you the one they call Dragonborn," the shorter of the two asked, hands placed on hips.

Straight forward, more to her style. Dalthe grinned. "Of course," she replied.

"That'll make this easy then," the short one said snarkily. They unsheathed their weapons. "Time for you to die impostor!" They charged at her.

Dalthe's eyes widened in surprise. She jumped back to avoid the swing of an ax, barely missing as it sliced into her bracer. Her great sword was quick to come out of it's sheath and quickly take care of her would be killers. "What was that all about," she wondered aloud, wiping her sword on the robes of the short one.

Dalthe knelt by the bodies and scoured them for any clues. She found a paper folded in a pocket along with a dagger and some dried meat. The paper was for her to be killed by them before she got to Solstheim. Where was Solstheim? "Easiest way to find out it to find that ship they mention," she stated. She really liked to talk out loud.

Dalthe tapped the side of the boat, The Northern Maiden she was called. After going to Solitude and then across the country to Windhelm, Dalthe had found what she was looking for. There was waiting though, a few weeks in fact where she was around Windhelm. But that didn't matter now. The ship was here and she was going to this mysterious place called Solstheim.