Jexak by now had gone to this odd portal- deciding to leave the group behind before something else happened. Questions were running through his mind. Where was he going? What in the world is a Moralet? What was the purpose of all this? Was he truly dead and this is purgatory? So many scattered dreams, and not a single answer to be found in the labyrinth of disaster and regret.

As the blinding light of transition faded- jexak found himself somewhere he thought he remembered. He was stood close to the peak of a truly massive mountain- next to an odd glowing pickaxe. The air was thin and the darkness of night concealed the world around him. Then out of nowhere a massive sonic boom catapulted him down the mountain. He swore he heard some word like 'Dovakiin'-but what was that word? Why did he recognize it? And why did it trigger memories of power and wonder? Again more questions as he tumbled down the snowy slopes to an ancient temple like building.

He finally came to a halt outside he supposed was the front door-though it could have easily been the rear. He pressed his ear against the door; hearing voices of old men. Even the voices seemed to have power behind them, and Jexak struggled to keep at the door by the sheer force. He couldn't understand what they were saying, since it was all in such a strange language. he looked down sighing and found to his surprise that his usual cloak was gone-replaced by a set of ragged clothing-and a tail. He looked at his reflection in a shard of ice; and saw the face of a cat-person. Again he had seen such faces before, but could not remember where.

In frustration he kicked the door and sat up against it. After a fleeting moment, the door unexpectedly opened inwards and a stern old man stared at him.

"We don't often get Khajit pilgrims…especially so late at night. But then I suppose the 7,000 steps take their toll, hmm?" the old man gave a light chuckle.

Jexak stared at the man with curiosity. "7,000 steps? Khajit? I-im sorry I don't follow."

The old man gave him a quizzical look before nodding. " Ah. So you are the falling star then? The traveler from legend to aid the true dragonborn?"

Jex shook his head to express his lack of understanding as the old man helped him inside.

"A traveller from another world you are. Bound by destiny to this place and soon another. Bound to a fate than spans all of existence. Bound to be the hero of…. Hmm...Which one are you, I wonder? I presume in our world you have a very different look. But even so you should have your mark." The old man continued. Jex still stared dumbfounded, sitting down on a bench with the old man sitting opposite.

" I don't have such a mark, Do I?" he asked looking at himself carefully for the very first time, and seeing a black stone where his left knee should be- and the exact shape size and smoothness too.

"That there is exactly what I am talking about. The mark of onyx then… the marker of the paradox-at once the shadow and the light in unison. But you require a purpose in order to function to your full potential. But you have yet to see such potential. I shall give you a temporary purpose, one that will lead to your true calling. Oh, but where are my manners? I am Arngier- one of the more powerful of my group…called the greybeards. The others cannot speak to you, as their voices could tear you apart. But now you must be taught the lore of this world" The old man informed.

Jex listened attentively to the old mans story of dragons, vampires, and warriors. The history of Windhelm, solitude, and the reach. The prophecy of the ancient gods, of the Dovakiin, and of the secretive isle from which his soon-to-be ally would be found. His ally would be a Wood-elf vampire of pure blood, and would suffer trials greater than any they have ever witnessed previous. Doom was coming. Already odd 'aliens' had invaded, as well as a mysterious metal dragon ridden by the most peculiar deadra. Jexak assumed deadra meant demon-and everything added up. His world hopping wasn't random, as if something was guiding him. He glanced around but saw nothing.

The old man also told him about two high elves- one wielding the power of gods even older than the divines, and another with less of a legend. A traitor to his friends, a deceiver wielding skyrims own snow and ice to his will. The elf's personality was supposedly self-obsessed and demanded respect though none would ever be given. A man obsessed with the sciences as opposed to the magic he was gifted. Jex could only sigh as he instantly recognized the description.

"this is all very interesting, but what am I supposed to do?" Jex asked insistently.

The old man smiled enigmatically and handed Jexak a map with a few markers on it.

" head to the cave first- there will be a cave in that you must prevent, as well as the key to your power. On your travels you will find the one you seek outside the city of solitude-so as a matter of a fact- go there first, then the cave. Then follow the young woman as best you can-be wary of a dragon that will attack…actually several. Keep moving only at night and do not enter the city until you are shrouded in shadow. Avoid the metal beast and its deadric master. In the chest outside you will find items that will aid you in your mission." Arngeir said sternly.

Jex nodded and stood, giving the old man a nod of approval and heading out the front door- which turned out not to be where he was. he found and opened the chest- inside finding a pair of enchanted iron gauntlets, leather armour with odd enchantments- and a note. The note read as follows:

Gauntlets: fortify unarmed

Boots: muffle

Chest: fortify conjouration and majica regen

Helmet: fortify stamina.

At the bottom of the chest were a few potions inside a small bag marked health, magica, and stamina respectively. Jexak carefully closed the chest and turned- looking upon the world ahead and beginning the slow descent to his new duty.