(I am basically writing this whole story in honor of two great, wonderful friends. This is loosely based on their personalities and the way they play each, respective game. I hope you enjoy and I, personally, wanted to do a crossover like this for some time. Enjoy and, as always, reviews are more than welcomed.)

Aimee. Dovakin. Looks sexy in dragon scale armor. Wood elf. Homicidal wood elf. Terror of Riften. Butcher of the Broadshield clan of nords. Hair of long, black color, braided in the back. Skin mostly light white with just hints of apple red. Pure green eyes. It was a constant spell she had going. She just like the green. It made her blend in with the forestation better. Her face was painted with war paint. It had been tattooed onto her at a very young age.

Not like anybody would notice all this with her putting arrows into everybody's head or blasting them away with a spell or Shouts. Setting them on fire, freezing them solid only to just break them into millions of pieces, or just sicking ravage animals on them to rip them apart. Though, she would stop from time-to-time to wonder if she wanted to see a wild beast do it or a good, summoned dreamora.

Paarthurnax, the wise, patient sort he was, had tried to get her to calm down with her bloodthirsty butchering but she would just give him that innocent, little smile and continue on with her wanting need of carnage. She had her limitations though. Children and mammoths. Everything else was just another target to be slaughtered. She especially liked to slay dragons. However, all the dragons had been dealt with and even most of the vampires in Skyrim had been laid to waste by her bow and magic. One of the fondest things she like to do was pick a good spot in a cave or abandon fort and watch a good fire atronnich roast them alive. She enjoyed them running around, screaming at the top of their lungs as they were engulfed by flames. This one time she had cooked her food off the burning embers of a dead, master vampire.

Needless to say, she had become indifferent to it all. She had defeated every challenge, every foe, every single thing imaginable to her in probably the whole of Tamriel.

Like always, Aimee was resting in front of a fireplace, sitting in a plush burgundy chair reading a good book with her feet propped-up on a burgundy ottoman. She had her armor resting neat and tidily near her. She was only about twelve pages in when she heard a whimpering, "Excuse me."

She slung her head around the chair and saw a man cowering with his wife and two children in the corner. They were the legal owners of the house. She was just "borrowing" it. She would move-on when she felt tired of the place.

With an irritated look to her face she belted out, "What?!"

The man shook in fear and asked, "May the children come close to the fire? They are very cold."

She sneered. "They'd be colder if they were corpses." She then went back to her book enjoying the warm fire.

"But - they are my -"

"Shut it!" Aimee scolded harshly. Making a flustered sigh she again returned to her book. She giggled a bit reading about a dragon eating an apple. Not knowing why she found that funny she read along quickly and quietly.

Getting to about the fifteenth page she again heard a voice. A stubborn female voice. "You have no right!"

Again, Aimee whipped her head in the family's direction "Oh no? Cunt, you don't make the rules around here, I do. I have the badass, fucking bow. I have the fucking dragon-scale armor. I know every, single, fucking magic spell in all of magika, so rethink your tone to me, bitch. Let me read my fucking book in peace, yeah?! Or you're all going to be in pieces!"

Flustered, Aimee had a difficult time finding her spot, making it known, "Now I've lost my fucking spot because of your goddamn shite!" After a few seconds, "Oh, here we go." She said returning to reading.

The husband just whispered to his family, "Shhhh, its going to be alright. It going to be alright." Kissing his wife on the head with tears in his eyes.

Not taking her eyes away from her book, "As long as you shut your mouth and stop with all your ballocks everything's going to be just fine!"

She was on page forty in ten minutes when suddenly there came a rapping as someone harshly pounding, pounding at her chamber door. Shutting the book with vigor she got up and put her armor on very quickly. She readied her bow saying, "Come on in the doors open sweetie." The door opened and no one was there. Cocking her brow she said in subtle delight, "Oh? What makes you think I just won't come out there and kill all of you?"

Over twenty guards stood stacked-up against the sided of the one door. "We have a proposition for you."

"This is starting to sound like another shite quest!" The string on her dragon bow pulled back, the ebony arrowhead gliding back-and-forth across the doorway. As if it was hungry for blood too.

Wincing at his mistake the guard tired a better tactic, "We need you to kill something."

"Just one? I could decimate an entire fucking army of some things."

"It seems so could this."

Lowering her bow she smiled saying, "Then come in and tell me more."

"I'd rather not. You can hear me just fine."

'Then I guess I'm going to have to go out there."

Wincing again the guard stepped in front of the door and held his hands up. Aimee could tell from his body and from his speech he was not a nord. He was an imperial though seemingly with the Stormcloaks. She had nearly annihilated both.

Bring her bow up again, pulling on it she made the imperial man close his eyes and wait for the arrow to tear his skull apart. Nothing of the such happened. Aimee smiled and put the bow back down, "Got you."

Shaking the imperial guard seemingly with the Stormcloaks walked in, glancing at the cowering family, and took a seat on a small, wooden chair just across from the family. On a wooden table was a bunch of dirty dishes. No flies or insects yet so he imagined Aimee had just had a full-sized meal.

She turned her large chair around to face the guardsman and asked, "Alright. Start talking."

He rubbed his hands together wondering how to get this out. How to tell her what she faced. The fire making him red hot with nervousness. That orange glow illuminating Aimee like a tall, slim demon queen in the burgundy chair. Swallowing he hoped for the sake of him and his men he worded this just right. "There is a new comer to Riverwood. She just happened to be standing there. She assaulted a townsperson and when we went to arrest her - well - she - how can I put this?"

"I'll put an arrow betwixt your eyes if you don't finish." Aimee said demonically only adding to her Oblivion-like visage.

Taking a sigh he continued, "She 'shouted' at us and…"

"Another dragon born?! Impossible."

"That's what we thought at first but she had this - this boom stick."

Cocking her head, Aimee asked, "A thunder staff?"

"No! No, no! I know what a staff looks like. This was no staff! This was something even more heinous! Diabolical! Evil!"

A blank stair and bored eyes donned Aimee's face. "Yeah because I haven't heard this stupid, fucking shite all before."

Trying to emphasis the terror of this newcomer, he started explaining this "boom stick". "Well, it was about half the size of a giant's forearm. Maybe a little smaller. It thundered out and cut down at least five of the guards. Two of the Riverwood guards and three of my own men."

Aimee was intrigued. She didn't let it show though. Staying hard and observant in the chair she asked, "What about her shout?"

"It was different from yours. You just speak and the power comes for you."

"Indeed." Saying it slyly like she owned copyright on the word.

"But it seemed she could use different words but they all had the same effect. She never used the same word once. Come to think of it - she never used anything the same. Just constantly had that blue luminescent glow."

Standing, Aimee said confidently, "Then she isn't a dragon born you twat!"

Wide-eyed fear came over the guardsman. The color draining from his face, what little there was.

"She is definitely some kind of witch. Or a sorceress. Something. She isn't a dragon born!"

Standing himself, albeit weakly, the imperial guard for the Stormcloaks asked hopefully, "Then you'll do it?"

"Hold on a minute." She said lifting her hand making the guardsman quiver in fear. Aimee adjust her dragon scale gauntlets and tugged on her bow on her back, "I need something out of this. I don't do anything for free love."

"We have plenty of gold for…"

Gritting her teeth, Aimee said with a small burst of power, "Gold?!" The dishes were knocked off the table and both the guard and the family felt the rush of power. Like being his by a hard, thick wall of wind. The family ran from their home not knowing where they would wind up. Aimee continued, "You think a pithy, paltry, miniscule reward such as gold will sate me?! Offer me all the gold in Skyrim, I could just take it anyhow. No bitch, I want my own keep."

Confused the guardsman asked with a very inquisitive look, "What do you mean 'a keep'?"

She took a step towards him making him take a reluctant step back. She said with a gleam to her bright, green eyes, "I want to be a yarl."

Tripping over his word, "A - a y-yarl!"

Aimee just nodded her head with a slight smile.

"I don't have the…"

She interrupted him, "You do this and your witch problem is gone. Unless, of course, you want to take the chance she's as powerful as I am?" Having a hard time trying not to laugh at a sorceress or witch being as powerful as her.

"Dragon's Bridge?" He guessed.

Aimee's somewhat pleasant mood was gone. "What do you take me for?! Do I look like some kind of stupid imbecile to you?! Now you try again fucker!" Her hand wrapping around the hilt of her dragon bone dagger.

Swallowing hard the guardsman thought quickly about a keep nobody would take objection to her reigning over. There were innocent people in all but he had to come up with an answer quickly. "Riften?"

Aimee eased away with a smirk, "That'll do." She walked away towards the front door. "You coming or you want me traveling all alone? Not very gentlemanly of you."

Moaning out with both fear and agitation the guardsman walked up beside her and motioned her out. She smiled and headed out greeted by some twenty other soldiers of the Stormcloaks. All with their weapon aimed directly at her. She smiled as the Stormcloaks got on their horses. The imperial got on a white stallion all his own and with a slight shuffle of his reigns asked, "Where is your horse?"

"Please, they die too quickly on me. I don't need one." She quickly took off sprinting to a tree nearly thirty feet away in less than the blink of an eye. She leaned against the trunk folding her arms, "Try and keep up." Sprinting away.

With a slight huff the imperial guardsman signaled the others and they sped off following her. The horses galloping at a fast pace catching up with the speed-demon of a bosmer. All of them quickly heading towards Riverwood.