My name is Leon Aventus, and I am a cursed man. I hail from Cyrodiil, home of the Imperial Legion, my brothers- and sisters-in-arms. I was born the bastard of some impoverished noble, or so I was told. I took the name "Aventus" later in my life. I joined the Legion at the youngest age possible, and was groomed for command. My company and I were dispatched to the far reaches of the Empire. We were specialists, and throughout my years I've seen many battles. It was on one of these missions that it all changed.
My men and I had been sent to destroy a beast, one that had been terrorizing an outlying province. We had been hunting the thing for days, and decided to set up a new camp for that night. I knew as soon as we settled down that something didn't feel right. There was something in the air: terror. As it turns out, it had been hunting us. My men and I fought bravely, but we were overwhelmed. There was more than one: a pack! I was sure I was done for, but by some miracle of a chance I survived; the sole survivor of this horrific deed. I returned defeated to the Imperial City thinking that I could put this all behind me, but as fate would have it, it was not so.
My surviving had not been a miracle, but a curse. I now carried a beast within me, one that put those I loved and held dear in danger. I could not control it. The curse began to run my life, so I so no other choice. I exiled myself, leaving Cyrodiil, the Legion, and my family behind. I was beginning to think it would have been better if I had perished with my men, but I was determined to beat this. I had heard rumors, legends, words passed quietly in taverns, of warriors who fought as beasts; an order known as the "Companions." And they were rumored to exist in Skyrim. It was nothing but a rumor, but I had nothing else.
So I set sail, leaving behind the world that I knew, my home, in search of a cure, in search of freedom. But yet again, fate would intervene. While navigating its way through a storm in the Sea of Ghosts, the ship that I was on collided with something. There was panic as the icy waters seeped their way into the ship. Water slowly filled the cabin I was in, and I felt the last bits of my consciousness become nothing more than a whisper as myself and the boat were swallowed by the deep. By some small chance my body freed itself from the wreck. I do not know if it was me, or what lies within me, but I was left dying, freezing to death in the icy waters of the Sea of Ghosts. I was sure that the end had finally come. I came in search for a cure, and perhaps this was it, the only way to be free of it.
But as the stars turned to day, I could smell smoke. I could feel the cold heat of the sun. I was alive! Barely, but I was alive. Some kind fool, an Argonian by the name of Deekus, hauled my body out of the water. Only the gods know what he was doing in this desolate waste, but he saved my life. Not only that, but he brought me back up to health. It was a kindness I had not experienced in some time. He fed me and kept me warm until I was able to move upon my own will. And once I could, I couldn't be more than thankful, but I had nothing. I had lost every possession I had owned on that ship. My armor, my weapons; everything but the clothes on my back. And so I stand here, freezing, on the shores of the Sea of Ghosts, wondering what exactly fate will have in store for me next. For I know one thing for sure: this is not the end, but the beginning.