Some view Ulfric as a traitor, a murderer and a shame to the Nords, but there is something they don’t know.

On that fateful night when Ulfric shouted the high king to pieces, a dark evil more terrifying than Alduin shook the mountains of Skyrim.

First it was the king’s fingernails bulging out of his hands. Next, his hair thinned out and made a crackling sound. He rose from his throne and let out a fearsome cry. Ulfric stood in disbelief. Finally, the king’s body was torn by a body hiding within.

The only person Ulfric told what he saw to was beheaded, and to avoid ruining innocent lives he swore to never speak it again.

Ulfric was no man of courage as he made his way to the gate of Solitude. In a panic he cried for help from the guards. They ran to him, but not to help him. They began tying his hands behind his back. He fell to his knees and looked up at the full moon. This was it, the end of Skyrim. Something beyond the Emperor’s control was unbound and soon to set the land into turmoil. Then a cold breeze lifted his spirit. He jumped up and tore the bindings from his wrist. One guard swung his battleaxe. Ulfric dodged the blow and grabbed the handle, pushed the blade into the guard’s neck and shoved it into his skull. A second guard unsheathed his sword but wasn’t quick enough. His head rolled by his crippled body.

“Roggvir! Open the gates!” shouted Ulfric. He grabbed Roggvir’s shoulders and breathed a heavy cry. “The High King…is dead!”

“What in the name of Ta…”

“…there’s no time Roggvir! The king was not one of us! The guards are not fighting with us! You must go home to your family and escape to Cyrodill before it’s too late!”

More guards clamored towards the men.

“What do you mean Ulfric? What…what did you do?”

“The king is no man, Roggvir!”

Again Ulfric looked up at the full moon and back at the guards who grew closer. There was no turning back time. He had to return to Windhelm and tell his council of the high king’s true form.