Author's Note: I obviously don't own Skyrim. If I did, having a wife would be more exciting than telling her to cook, selling of useless crap when Belethor runs out of gold, or demanding money from her. Things like, i don't know, giving her gifts or something.

Well, where to begin. I guess I should start with my name and who I am.

My name is Faolan. My father was originally from Skyrim's northern borders, near Dawnstar and my mother was a political refugee from High Rock.

They met and fell in love and for reasons unknown to me; they moved to Bruma, well around it and had me.

After five years had aged me however, tragedy struck. I was out in the woods collecting berries with mother and when we returned home, father was dead. A strange man was holding his throat to his mouth. Mother lost it and went to attack the man but he quickly overpowered her and killed her too. I was left standing in the doorway clutching the basket.

Maybe it was because I was a child, or maybe it was because he felt pity for me, I don't know. For whatever reason the man simply left, leaving me to grieve my parents.

Years would pass and all I could ever think about were the man's red eyes and my father's blood dripping from his mouth. This would eventually drive me to seek out the answers behind my parent's death and also why they moved to Cyrodil in the first place where they were murdered.

After reaching my seventeenth year, I found myself journeying across the Jerrall Mountains and right into an Imperial ambush. After traveling via prison carriage I arrived in Helgan where I was hoping we were to be put in a prison of some sort to await trial and I could plead my story and hopefully be on my way. This did not go as planned.

Instead of prison, or even a trial, the Stormcloaks (as they called themselves) were to go straight to the chopping block. Guess who the Imperials thought was a Stormcloak? That's right, this chick.

Mysteriously I was saved by a black dragon who decided to attack right as the executioner was going to chop my head off. I won't bore you with all the details but in the end I managed to escape Helgan with one of the imperials who seem all the happier that I wasn't wrongly executed. I don't know maybe the guy got the wrong idea when I said I would travel back to Riverwood with him to meet his family.

To set the record straight for anyone, guys are not my thing; I am solely into chicks, preferably chicks who are badass, but not so much that they go into a frenzy and murder anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Hadvar's (name of the imperial guy I escaped with) uncle wound up setting me up with supplies and somehow got me to agree to go to the capital of the hold Riverwood was in to try and add more security, what with a dragon flying about and all.

Sitting in the Jarl of Whiterun's keep or castle, whatever the hell you'd like to call it, trying to gain an audience with his "lordship", I notice this particularly aggressive chick approach me and even from a distance I can tell she's a Dunmer, or Dark Elf, whichever you prefer and she looks as if someone has a dagger stuck up her ass. She's got a sword drawn and all walking up to me, demanding who I am, what I am doing here, and so on and so forth. I guess she's his body guard or something.

After speaking with the Jarl, Balgruuf, I was once again volunteered for services to the hold to retrieve something called a Dragonstone? Which, after fighting of waves of the undead creatures known as Draugr also giant spiders the locals call Frostbite Spiders, I retrieved the stupid thing and absorbed some kind of knowledge from a wall within the crypt. I brought it back to him expecting some large reward like a really cool set of armor or some gold, but instead got a measly sword and a pat on the back.

However, I did manage to get some gold from the crypt, so at least my time was not wasted. Before I can even say so much as a bye, I am once again roped into helping these time I'm not delving into an ancient crypt, nope, I get to kill a damn dragon!

Seriously people, are you so pathetic and in need of help you would ask a stranger to fetch this or go kill this for me whilst I park my ass on my throne? Like before, me being a sucker and all, I go to this western watch tower and kill this damn thing before it makes too much of a pest of itself. Something strange happened afterwards though. I absorbed the dragons soul and learned what the word I got from the crypt meant, and now everyone is calling me the "Dragonborn". What the fuck is that suppose to mean?

All in all, it wasn't too bad, I mean I have this awesome power now that sends people sailing, so that's cool. Upon my return the Jarl named me Thane of the hold and gave me an axe and a minion.

And with all the gold I have acquired so far I managed to buy a house in Whiterun. Which is where I am sitting now, chilling on my bed while my appointed minion, a chick named Lydia, creepily watches me. That Jarl guy said I should venture to High Hrothgar at the top of the highest mountain in all of Nirn to speak with these old bastards who call themselves the Greybeards because they shouted for me.

But for the time being I think I'm just going to chill here because all in all this has been a tiring week and I don't feel like moving my ass just yet.