I woke before sunrise. Stretching, I looked around the dark and unfamiliar room, remembering the events that had led to me obtaining the house. I groaned and rubbed my face. Dragons. So much for me staying out of things. Why were the gods so insistent that I should always get caught in the thick of whatever dangerous thing was happening nearby?

I got up and pulled my clothes and mismatched armor back on. Strapping my sword to my hip and my bow and quiver to my back, I quietly slipped out of the house.

There were still stars in the dark sky overhead as I made my way down the street toward Whiterun's front gate. Whatever the Jarl had said, I wasn't going to the Greybeards. I didn't know exactly what had happened after the fight with that dragon, but I couldn't be Dragonborn. It was a mistake or… or something! Talos had been Dragonborn. Martin had been Dragonborn. That wasn't me.

The Legion, however, was still an option. Hadvar said that he thought that they had a chance of finding out what was going on. If I wanted answers, going to them was probably my best bet.

There was a carriage outside the city walls, near the stables. The driver looked down at me curiously as I approached. It was early, I supposed.

"Can you take me to Solitude?" I asked him.

He blinked once. Then he nodded. "Sure. Climb in back and we'll be off."

I paid him the fee and climbed up onto the back of the open carriage. He clicked at the horse and we started off down the road. The carriage bumped slightly against the ruts in the dirt. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

"First time to Solitude?" He asked after a few minutes. "Beautiful old city. Capital of Skyrim, but I'm sure you already knew that."

I murmured an assent. Opening my eyes again, I stared up at the sky high above me. The horizon was starting to lighten to a purplish-gray, signaling that dawn was quickly approaching.


Solitude was far in the northeastern part of Skyrim. The capital of Skyrim rested atop a gigantic natural stone arch overlooking open marshland to the south and the Sea of Ghosts to the east. A pine forest bordered the city on its northern side. Over the thick, sturdy stone walls I could see the revolving sails of a massive windmill. Behind me, the sun was setting over the mountains, turning the grey clouds overhead brilliant shades of orange and red.

The moment I stepped through the gate, I found myself looking at an assembled crowd. The people all faced a platform against the wall. On top a man stood behind a chopping block. His hands were bound. Another man stood at his side, this one in guard uniform. An executioner stood on the other side. At the back of the crowd a little girl was tugging on a man's arm.

"They can't hurt uncle Rogvir," she insisted. "Tell them he didn't do it!"

"Positions."

"Svari, you need to go home," the man said, pointing down the street. "Go home and stay there until your mother comes."

A woman walked past, glaring at him. "You should tell her that her uncle is scum that betrayed his High King. Best she know now, Addvar."

I pulled down my hood and slipped into the crowd. All around me, people were jeering and shouting things like, "You betrayed us!"

The guard on the platform had to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd. "Rogvir, you helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric, you betrayed the people of Solitude."

"There was no murder! Ulfric challenged Torryg!" The man insisted.

"Liar!"

"He beat the High King in fair combat! Such is our way! Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim and all Nords!" The crowd booed loudly. The man was forced to kneel down and lay his head on the block. "On this day, I go to Sovngarde."

The axe came down with a thunk.

"Some gate guard you were!"

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."

The crowd slowly dispersed, shaking their heads in residual anger and disgust. I went over to one of the guards that remained nearby and asked him, "Where do I find General Tullius?"

"He's up in Castle Dour. Over there." He pointed down the street toward a set of towers. I nodded to him in thanks and hurried toward it.

I climbed a ramp leading up from the street to the castle. Flags displaying both the Imperial sigil and the mark of Solitude, a wolf on red and white, hung from the walls. Passing through a courtyard, I stepped inside.

Crossing a short hall lit by braziers and lined with Imperial banners, I found a small room where two people were arguing. One was an Imperial man in armor that I faintly recognized as belonging to a high-ranking officer. The other was a tall Nord woman dressed in Imperial steel. Her brown hair was braided back to keep it out of her face. Between them was a table.

"I'm telling you, Ulfric's planning an attack on Whiterun," she said, leaning forward across the table. A large map of the province lay over it, dotted with small flags colored either red or blue.

The man was pacing, his arms clasped behind his back. "He'd be insane to try. He doesn't have the men."

"That's not what my scouts report, sir. Every day more join his cause. Riften, Dawnstar, and Winterhold support him."

"It's not a cause. It's a rebellion."

"Call it whatever you like, General. The man's going to try to take Whiterun."

"Jarl Balgruuf…" He too leaned on the table, looking weary.

"Balgruuf refuses the Legion's right to garrison troops in his city. On the other hand, he also refuses to acknowledge Ulfric's claim."

"Well, if he wants to stand outside the protection of the Empire, fine," he grumbled. "Let Ulfric pillage his city."

"General!"

The man turned away and started pacing again. "You people and your damn Jarls."

"Sir, you can't force a Nord to accept help he hasn't asked for."

"If Ulfric's making a move for Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him. Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric's plans. Embellish if you have to. We'll let it seem like it's his idea."

"Yes, sir."

"You Nords and your bloody sense of honor…" He groaned, shaking his head.

The woman stepped away, leaving him alone. After a minute or two, he looked up and saw me. The General sighed.

"Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?" He asked.

"I believe we've already met," I told him.

"Have we?" He strode over and gave me a long, hard look. "Oh. Oh, of course. You were at Helgen. One of the prisoners, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, what are you doing here?"

"I came to help the Empire," I said. "Hadvar said he'd vouch for me."

"Hadvar's alive? I hope that's true. Damn good soldier. He hasn't reported in yet, so he can't exactly confirm your story." Damn. "In the meantime, why don't you have a chat with Legate Rikke? I suspect we might have use for someone resourceful like you. Not many survived Helgen," he added bitterly. "Besides, I'm sure your being imprisoned was all a terrible misunderstanding."

He led me back out into the hall and indicated that I should wait there. A few minutes later the woman appeared. Stopping before me, she looked me over.

"You survived Helgen? General Tullius told me what happened." She looked impressed. "Not many made it out alive."

I nodded. "Yes, Legate."

She crossed her arms and nodded slowly. "I've got a good feeling about you, and I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut. I'm not going to go through the normal process with you. I've got a little test lined up. Pass that, and we'll talk about you joining the Legion."

"What kind of test?"

"The kind that evaluates your usefulness during… duress."

Well, that was a good sign…

"The ancients built many of the fortresses that dot the landscape of Skyrim," she began. "Sadly, most have fallen into disrepair, and nearly all have been overrun with bandits or other vagabonds. Fort Hraagstad is one of the few that remains mostly intact. We're going to install a garrison there, but first the bandits that have moved in need to be cleared out. I'm sending you do it. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpse."

The latter might be a bit more difficult than she'd expect, with my… unique circumstances.

"Consider the fort yours," I told her.

"Good. That's what I want to hear. Now go make it happen, soldier."


It took a day to get to the old fort, passing through the forest and heading out nearly to the coast. Night had settled in and brilliant bands of light filled the sky overhead. I'd never seen anything like them before.

A lone figure patrolled the battlements, their outline little more than a dark shadow. I crept forward, the snow covering the ground crunching softly beneath the soles of my boots. Crouching down behind a boulder, I nocked an arrow and waited. The bandit stopped. The instant they did I loosed. With some satisfaction I saw the shadowy figure fall back out of sight behind the wall.

Holding my breath, I waited and counted the seconds that ticked by. When no one else appeared, I crept in through the entrance. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy…

I passed by the fallen bandit. Her eyes were glazed over as they stared sightlessly at the night sky above. The rest of the courtyard appeared deserted. I glanced around. One of the doors in the keep was open a crack, letting out a sliver of light. Voices came from inside. Nocking an arrow, I carefully pushed it open.

Two bandits stood by the fireplace just inside. Their arms were crossed and they chatted to one another, completely unaware of my presence. Taking a deep breath, I loosed my first arrow, catching the bandit in the neck. She let out a choked gurgle and stumbled, hitting her head on the stone fireplace and crumpling. The second was dead as well before he could even draw his sword.

At the back of the room was a set of stairs leading to an upper floor. I crept up them, readying another arrow. There was a long chamber at the top, set up as living quarters. The far end of the room was lined with several beds. A figure in full armor sat in a chair on that side, sharpening a greataxe. His gaze lifted just as I inched up the top step and he jumped to his feet.

He'd seen me.

The bandit hefted his axe and charged, roaring at me. Raising my bow, I shot. The arrow punched through his left eye. He fell with a loud clatter as the plates of his armor collided with the stone floor.

As the echo faded I picked my way through the room. If the bandits had anything of value, there was no sense in leaving it all behind. In one of the dressers in the living quarters I found a decent sized purse full of drakes. Good enough. As I shut the drawer, I noticed the book sitting on top of the dresser. Its title caught my eye.

The Talos Mistake

Frowning, I picked it up and flipped it open.

As citizens of the Empire, all are of course familiar with the deeds of Emperor Tiber Septim. But it is the Emperor's ascent to godhood, as Talos, that is the subject of this work.

Until Tiber Septim's death, there had been but Eight Divines: Akatosh, Dibella, Arkay, Zenithar, Stendarr, Mara, Kynareth, and Julianos. These gods were, and are, worshipped throughout the Empire. And while some may have different names in the varying provinces (for example, Akatosh is known as "Auri-el" to the Aldmer; and Arkay is sometimes known as "Ar'kay"), all are recognized and revered by all races and cultures of Tamriel.

But when Tiber Septim passed to Aetherius, there came to be a Ninth Divine – Talos, also called Ysmir, the "Dragon of the North." The man who was so loved in life became worshipped in death. Indeed, it can be argued that Talos, the Ninth Divine, became even more important than the Eight that had preceded him, at least to humans. For he was a god who was once just a man, and through great deeds actually managed to ascend to godhood. And if one human could achieve such a feat – couldn't it be done again? Couldn't all humans aspire to achieve divinity?

So we thought, we humans. And so we continued to worship Talos, and revere him as the ultimate hero-god. But that was then. This is now. And now we know the truth:

We were wrong.

As citizens of the Empire, we all experienced the horrors of the Great War. And it was not until the signing of the White-Gold Concordat, the treaty between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion, that we once again knew peace. One of the most important stipulations of that treaty, as every Imperial citizen is well aware, is that Talos can no longer be worshipped as a god. This edict shook the very foundations of the Empire. There were those who rebelled against the law. Indeed, some still do.

But the citizens of the Empire must know this: the Emperor did not agree to outlaw the worship of Talos because it was demanded by the Thalmor, the ruling body of the Aldmeri Dominion.

The Emperor agreed to the outlaw of the worship of Talos because it was the right thing to do.

Today the Emperor, and indeed the Empire itself, recognizes that allowing the worship of Talos was a mistake. For by doing so, by allowing the worship of Talos as a Divine, the Empire actually did its people a great disservice: for this only succeeded in weakening the memory of the man Tiber Septim and his many extraordinary (though mortal) deeds; and pushing people away from the Eight Divines, the true gods, who do deserve our love and reverence.

And so, the Empire admits it was wrong. The Talos Mistake will not be repeated. May we find centuries of peace and prosperity with our new Thalmor friends, and continue to share a spirituality that binds together all the cultures and races of Tamriel.

My hands shook as they clenched around the book. The pages started to tear away from the spine. Snarling, I stormed downstairs and tossed the book into the fireplace, feeling some satisfaction as I watched it burn. The pages curled as they blackened.

So that was how it was. The Thalmor had taken the Empire and turned it into… this. My hands tightened into fists at my sides.


"Tell me again why I'm wasting men chasing after a fairytale."

Tullius and Rikke were arguing again when I arrived back at the castle.

"If Ulfric gets his hands on that crown, it won't be a fairy tale. It'll be a problem," the Legate told him, shaking her head.

"Don't you Nords put any stock in your own traditions?" He asked. "I thought the Moot chose the king. We're backing Elisif. When the Moot meets, they'll do the sensible thing."

"Not everyone's agreed to the Moot. You've been here long enough to know that Nords aren't always sensible. We follow our hearts."

"So, what, Ulfric gets this crown and then suddenly he's High King?" Tullius snapped.

"No. It's not as simple as that, but the Jagged Crown would be a potent symbol for his cause to rally around," she explained. "But, if we found it first…"

"And we gave it to Elisif?"

Rikke nodded. "In the absence of the Moot, it would further legitimize her claim."

"Perhaps…" Tullius rubbed his chin, deep in thought, before telling her, "I'm entrusting you with what resources I can spare. But I'm warning you, if this turns out to be a waste of time and men…"

"It won't be a waste. The Stonefist's no fool. He's found the crown, but we'll get to it first."

Rikke glanced around and noticed me for the first time.

"The fort's clear," I told her.

Giving me the slightest of smiles, she said, "Welcome back, soldier. I'm glad you made it in one piece. I'll send men to garrison the fort right away. You did well. I'm impressed. Before we go any further, it's time for you to officially join the Legion. General Tullius will administer the oath."

The General nodded to her and turned to me. "In joining the Legion, you'll be taking an oath binding you to the service of the Emperor and thus to every citizen of the Empire."

"I understand."

"Well, then. Repeat after me." He cleared his throat. "Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede the second…"

I repeated the words, my throat tightening on the usurper's name. I reminded myself that I had no choice but this.

"… and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."

"… and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."

"May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty. Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."

"May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty." Martin, forgive me. "Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."

"Welcome to the Imperial Legion, soldier. Now, if I'm not mistaken, the Legate has an assignment for you."

The General left the room. As he went, Rikke said, "Welcome to the Legion, auxiliary. Listen up. Ulfric's right hand man, Galmar Stonefist, has located what he believes is the final resting place of the Jagged Crown. We're going to make sure he doesn't get his hands on it."