One warm spring ago, a deep contrast to the coming frigid winter of today, a man had been captured for no real justified reason. It was more than likely the paranoid thoughts of the Imperials who refused to let any possibility of disaster float by. When asked why he seemed to be snooping around the camp, he gruffly replied that he had stumbled upon it on a hunt for food and meant no harm. His mistake in getting captured was mentioning he had recently crossed the border to Skyrim from Cyrodiil. The second they heard that, they threw shackles on him and had tossed him in with the Stormcloaks. Their reason? Illegal border hopping that obviously infuriated the man, despite his calm composure. Their real reason was there paranoid mindset that believed he was here to release their prisoners. Believed he was some kind of spy despite none of the Stormcloaks recognizing him. He had distinctive features too, so more than likely they would have known the man if he were among their ranks.
His distinctions made him strange as well. He wore a mask that covered a section of his face. The black metal wrapped itself around his eyes, curled just beneath his brow and stopped beneath the bow of his lips. The upper part of his cheeks were covered by the metal and wrapped around the side of his head to cover his ears. The mask had swirls and patterns etched into it and left a stark contrast to his gold eyes that could pierce a man's soul and left others unnerved. His white hair seemed to compliment the look, falling around his face and trailing down his back in soft waves with two braids pinned with silver beads and brushing against his chin. He had caramel skin that looked soft to the touch and spared by the roughness of facial hair. The final distinction was the sharp lines and rigid swirls that seemed to start down his arm, over his shoulder, along his throat, up the side of his face and finished at the left side of his forehead, or his right side.
He spoke very little after he was chained and only glared in response, watching the soldiers pick through his bag and pull out numerous adventuring items as well as his large coin purse. He was allowed to keep a few jewelry pieces that looked ugly to everyone else but seemed important to him. The rest of the ride he sat quietly with a couple of the Stormcloaks and a thief who got caught along the way. He didn't even make a sound when one of them, Ralof, made a reference to the "end of the line" and he watched them march to Helgen. Eyes were on him when they were lined up at the chopping block and he was asked his name.
"Eco Ceralius"
It sounded Imperial, something that proved that he was from Cyrodiil and they assumed he was Imperial then. But he was taller than the average Imperial, so some sort of elven… and he was closely dark to a Redguard. No one could quite figure out what he was and even after that day and his sudden disappearance after the dragon attack, people still couldn't guess.
Eco resurfaced about 2 month later, shocking everyone with the impressive title of Dragonborn. When news spread like wildfire, many rose to claim knowing him, telling impressive stories of his feats and the jobs he did for them. They spoke of his kindness and willingness to help everyone and anyone no matter how small or big the task was. Some even came out to speak sultry tales, nights of intense passion and love like no other they experienced with the man of legend. In some of these stories, he was a terrifying, dominant sight to see, ravaging the other for many long hours. In others, he was a passionate and gentle submissive, who's deep voice would turn soft and wanting when taken control of. He was a sight to see as well in those stories, sounding like a precious virgin meant to be cherished and worshiped. Those stories were often taken with a grain of salt since they seemed out of character for the man. The people who knew him most was the hunters who scoured the land, always talking about his fondness for hunting and how much time he spent among them when he wasn't fighting dragons or traversing through the Holds. Eco was an avid hunter in both animals and treasure. He would pride himself and large and numerous kills and share it with everyone that had helped, or even random travelers. He enjoyed exploring old crypts, caves and towers, fighting all sorts of monsters and people to bring back treasures or keep himself on his toes. By living his life that way, he was always ready for everything and anything, including his favorite enemy: dragons.
But now the crisis was over, Alduin having been slain at Eco's feet and sure, there were still dragons to be fought by the Dragonborn, but the main issue was the civil war that was tearing the land apart. A war that could sway in the others favor if they had someone as powerful as Eco behind them, supporting their cause and rallying the people of Skyrim behind them Eco had, unfortunately, remained neutral in the cause, not wanting to get between the two leaders and rather fighting the public's personal battles. Even at the meeting at High Hrothgar, they were unsure of where his loyalties lay. He seemed exasperated when they argued for land and he was prodded to choose what each side got. He was fair and gave them equal plying field, making sure they got a nice victory and a crushing blow. After that, he remained neutral and distant to General Tullis and Ulfric, not even speaking with them after the meeting when they had approached him for a personal audience. The Dragonborn was a power that both sides sought after like a dehydrated man did for water. Ah yes, he was a power that Ulfric Stormcloak was determined to take for himself.