Prologue
One year ago, they came... it came; it's wings black as night and eyes crimson as the sun. It devastated Helgen and eventually, “they” devastated Skyrim and within a few days; treating man like mere livestock and treated us... like playthings. They did not hunt because they had to but for fun. However, within a week the titans mysteriously suddenly vanished like they never existed but now... the very name “Dragon” makes men scream in the inside beyond their heart and soul from shear trauma though, most men have become quickly ignorant of this passing.
The Elder Scrolls foretold a hero would come though, the Dragonborn has not come.
Meanwhile, the war ravages immensely as Jarl Ulfric arising through mad power, General Tullius becoming more aggressive by the second – the war has become more devastating with prices becoming more expensive whilst, the Thalmor are pulling the strings in the background and with the recent assassination of Jarl Elisif, Skyrim is need of a moot for a Jarl of Solitude.
As the corpses of each soldier give a new fallen, the necromancers are becoming more powerful with their ever more so expanding army; just waiting to rage darkness onto Skyrim. - They say when there is black smoke, it means they are coming...,