For a while, all is dark.
Feelings of gloom unawareness sweep through the atmosphere. The only thing that can be heard is the rustling of Solsthiem pines as wind blows through their thick branches.
But in the distance, refuge slowly creeps from behind colossal mountains. Sunlight cowers behind these great, snowcapped mountains. It then regains confidence, ready to shine for another day. Its delicate rays kiss the dewy cheeks of morning air, and admire their reflection cast across miles of soft, still snow.
This snow is hard, and vibrates with every gallop a great creature takes. Her great, padded paws strike the snow for only a second at a time, the day has begun and she must return home. To this creature, beautiful warm sun is venom. She feels the delicate rays rebel and turn lethal against its thick pelt.
A hunter, nordic, strong and brawny leans against the rough trunk of a tree. In here his is hidden with the branches falling all around him, forming a sanctuary. He positions his bow carefully enough to remain silent as he takes aim between two eerie eyes. Muscles in his arm constrict and tighten as he pulls his arm back, skillfully delivering the blow.
Staring into space, the creature attempts to remember home. Home.. home.. home.. it repeats over and over in its humanoid mind. Before its complex mind can pull together home something blows it back.
Her worst enemy, silver, is shot straight into her tough chest. It crackles and burns at the immortal flesh, flame eats at whatever it can get its claws on as the creature doubles over.
The hunter rises and walks towards his game. In his head he puts together locations and tools he can utilize to cure and present the creature's pelt.
"Thank you for doing my dirty work, young man.." creaks a wild, rarely used voice.
The hunter then finds his legs useless, swallowed by a purple glow, he looks up to see the face of the woman who has paralyzed him.
"You bitch," He gasps, and the woman laughs at this word he calls her. It closely resembles the word given to what she really is. She cackles and hisses with laughter while he spits out words considered vile in his society.
"Good, good job.." she begins as she then raises her hand, and puts the man out of his misery. She creaks, "Now you, unlike him you can have another chance." She then removes the hungry arrow from the beast's chest, raises her hand and light greater than the morning sun flourishes across the surrounding forest. It reveals the wounded creature's true form, a young human girl.
"Child, I may I have lifted your curse but the full moon still plagues you.." says the witch, "But you have more to do than wallow in these forests, that I know. Get up; I'll let you figure out your destiny yourself. A friend of mine in Skyrim waits for you" She knew the girl would follow her orders, or she would surely die.
She also knew who she was, and most importantly, what or whom this girl could create.
She then disappeared, and the journey to Skyrim had begun.