Thesius
The Imperial Paladin
It has been fifteen years since the end of the dragon crisis, the death of Alduin, the World Eater, and the disappearance of the person known only as 'dragonborn'. It has been ten years since the brutal civil war came to an end, with the Stormcloaks and Ulfric, victorious. It has been five years since the assassination of Ulfric Stormcloak, the High King of Skyrim. Now, Skyrim once more hangs on the brink of war, with the imperial legion lurking at the borders and bandits running rampant in the wilds. Murmurs of nord supremacy are spreading from formerly rebel aligned holds, such as Dawnstar and Windhelm. Already, blood stains the snow red in those places.
Yet, there is a cautious, hopeful stability throughout the rest of Skyrim. The people tenaciously cling to their independance, but maintain law and order throughout their respective holds. Though bandits may rule the outskirts and ruins, the hold guard maintain a vigil on the walls and roads. The jarls know that another civil war, so close to the last, may well destroy Skyrim once and for all.
It is the hold of Falkreath, claimed almost entirely by great forests and crumbling towers, that has drawn the least scrutiny. Already known as the 'graveyard city' Falkreath has grown in the decade and a half since the dragon crisis. Still, it is somewhat less than the rest of Skyrim, and so no one pays much attention to the inhabitants of the hold. Or the disappearances. Or the murders. Sidgeir, jarl of Falkreath, is proud and independant. But even he knows when he's outmatched. A call for adventurers and mercenaries has been issued throughout Tamriel. Time is of the essence. The eldest of the nords talk among their ales and pipes, whispering that such troubles have come before...that this is just part of an endless cycle.
Yet, there is a cautious, hopeful stability throughout the rest of Skyrim. The people tenaciously cling to their independance, but maintain law and order throughout their respective holds. Though bandits may rule the outskirts and ruins, the hold guard maintain a vigil on the walls and roads. The jarls know that another civil war, so close to the last, may well destroy Skyrim once and for all.
It is the hold of Falkreath, claimed almost entirely by great forests and crumbling towers, that has drawn the least scrutiny. Already known as the 'graveyard city' Falkreath has grown in the decade and a half since the dragon crisis. Still, it is somewhat less than the rest of Skyrim, and so no one pays much attention to the inhabitants of the hold. Or the disappearances. Or the murders. Sidgeir, jarl of Falkreath, is proud and independant. But even he knows when he's outmatched. A call for adventurers and mercenaries has been issued throughout Tamriel. Time is of the essence. The eldest of the nords talk among their ales and pipes, whispering that such troubles have come before...that this is just part of an endless cycle.