Prologue
Hearken!
As the continent of Tamriel has been host to much civilization and walks of life to inspire as much mirth as they have disdain to so has it beheld more stories than most would have the time to learn. Many remember the Champion of Cyrodiil, the Nerevarine, the Hero of Kvatch, and others.
For attestment of this direct attention toward Cyrodiil.
To the heart of the Imperial fatherland, there was a family known as House Actorius to call the nation its homeland. A lineage long associated with the battle cry of "Vae Victis" (Suffering to the Conquered) since the collapse of the Remen Dynasty (some even boasting of their bloodlines connection to the Alessian Slave Rebellion) and the days of the balefully black-armor clad Damocles which dedicated its existence to the furthering of glory to Cyrodiil in equal measure to the glory of their house.
Bearing witness to the spectacles of the arising eras and greet each with cause for gramercies of their own.
In the annals of this House's history (which carried the blood of Nibeans and Colovians) it would long be one known for producing a lineage of men and women who were as capable of being champions and heroes as they were of being the blackest of villains and monsters (such as the Grave-Walker Talion remembered for his marriage to the enchantress Shelob and alliance with the Orc Ratbag). Finding positions from Crusaders to Merchants and Traders. But none ever were as complex and perplexing as the one who would be remembered by history to bear the name of Daemon Actorius. Third son of the cunning Kaeso and Drusilla. Never was there one in his bloodline who was so beloved, reviled, admired, and scorned; believed to have been crafted by the gods with as much light as he was darkness. Described in the writings of the Breton scholar and his cousin-in-law, Gyldayn, as being as dashing as he was daring. Ambitious, impetuous, and moody; prone to be as charming as he was hot-tempered. His swordplay has been claimed to have been one of the most refined of his family in that generation; with even the man-at-arms pedagogue to mentor the childe, Vlamo Donius, was recorded to oft struggle at besting him in sparring matches near the end of his training tenure. This skill was matched by his willingness to explore the spheres of society which most in his family would have disregarded as not worth their time; sharing company with the sellswords, cut-purse, assassins, gamblers, and other breeds of life which would have been perceived as beneath his station (in both a societal and moral sense) with his disdain reserved solely for the brigands and bandits.
For a time he would serve in the City Watch of Kvatch, in which he would personally carry out the Empire's justice upon all law breakers—be they of High or Low birth—with mercy and preferential treatment never considered. Earning scores of enemies among the nobles in his tenure along with scars—the more remembered one being a scar through his right eyebrow when putting down a riot—before his loving father would coerce him into retiring from the Watch and his father would implement his talents for the benefit of their noble house; particularly in regard to their alliance with the Drimun clan—-a house of similarity to his own in renown, with their descent from the famed Breton warrior, Boudica, who was famed for her part in aiding the hero Guts the Manslayer and his Warhawk band in the slaying of villainous Griffith for the defilement of Casca, as well as their descent from the hero of Daggerfall, Morrigan—of High Rock's heart through a marriage to Duncan Dirmun's second oldest daughter.
Had the plans of mortal machinations played out as intended, he would never have become what he has become remembered as today. However, it seems the gods had a more long lasting destiny to be recalled in the chronicles of Tamriel's history.
Remembered today as perhaps one of the most controversial aspect of the Stormcloak Rebellion—that time when the sons and daughters of Skyrim spilled their blood in a pointless conflict, where steel and blood was to be seen in equal measure—to break out in the aftermath of High King Torygg's slaying at the Bear of Markath's hands (which itself was a result of the Great War), and remembered today in the stories recounted by historians as well as glorified and vilified in the yarns spun by bards and poets alike as both the 'Dragonborn' and 'The Renegade of Cyrodiil.'
This is his story. The tale of a man who could not defy the call of destiny nor the will of the tyrannous stars any more than he could the command of his heart's wrath and lust; the one who knew as much adventure and excitement as he did despair, guilt and woe.