Portalborn

In the land of Skyrim, the Dragonborn is a hot-blooded thrill seeker. An encounter with a weird man and a talking meteorite ball thing that rambles about space sets her off on something weird indeed...

The land of Skyrim; Filled with snow, mountains, trees, dragons and a tough populace. The land was shaped by war and bent by conflict all around it. The people were a proud, brave lot that made the harsh soils work for them. For they thrived on challenges; the strongest warriors were revered in song, whether it was in battle with each other, trolls or dragons. Any of the local Nords could tell you a thousand stories about their adventure filled lives, armed with their awesome weapons to the brink of bringing blood to their own honor.

Within their realm held their own areas of dedication, whether you were a Warrior, a thief or a mage...they were sworn to defend their homeland from ever-oncoming threats. Skyrim itself was born out of an infamous era with Dragons ruling it, but eventually, with determination and skill, they were driven out for hundreds of years, for then they put up with events around them, with the Fourth, and current era, eventually focusing on what little beauty was left, with many other Provinces heading into disarray after the Oblivion Crisis.

Skyrim was not without its own problems. The Civil War between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks had torn the Province apart. Far worse was the Return of the Dragons. According to lore, Dragons hadn't been seen for many years, until recently, which lead to rumors of possible resurrections at hand, leaving supernatural forces at play. Investigations were underway, with progress being made at the revelation that a chosen one had been found...the Dragonborn.

The Dragonborn was someone who had the blood and soul of a Dragon, but the body of a mortal. Bearing a gift from the Gods above, they had the ability to use Dragon Shouts and speak as they do as well being the only mortals to permanently kill a dragon by absorbing their power and soul. Everyone but the Dragonborn themselves knew this, as they had found out from the old men on the Throat of the World, known as the Greybeards, those dedicated to honing and developing "The Way of the Voice. as well as the many myths and legends passed down from ancestor to ancestor.

The current Dragonborn of this era, a former convict caught crossing the border at the wrong time, was about to be executed until a dragon attacked the Village of Helgen, inadvertently saving their life and leaving them to roam the land of Skyrim, fate leaving them to wander and do as they wish.

So far, the Dragonborn had joined up with the Companions in Whiterun and had gone on wild and twisted adventures that had gotten attention of a few members and had been invited to join in on their special group, the Circle, and within due time, became a Werewolf. However, within those celebrator bounds, horror had struck which tragically shortened a few crucial members lives and within a few weeks, found themselves as the Harbinger; the closest thing the Companions had to a leader. Each Companion would bring honour to themselves and everyone within, but the Harbinger was the one with the wisdom to aid their Shield-Brother or sister in times of crisis, or just gave general advice. This life was good with the Dragonborn, helping the people of Skyrim with their dilemmas and wearing such honour, with pride.

At moment, the Dragonborn lay within the safety of their house in Whiterun. They were a female Nord with brown hair and green-gray eyes, pale white skin, her steel armor forged from the Skyforge, bearing a Skyforge Steel sword. She dabbled in some magic, necessary in part and had learned a few shouts. Her face was dirty...but she had a quiet place, a secluded part of the nearest river, where, occasionally she'll wash herself down. Otherwise, it was normal, her hair tatty, but who's wasn't nowadays? No one really gave two thoughts about it. She ran her fingers through hers after sitting back down. She'd cooked herself some steak and gulped it down in no time, resting the bowl back on the table, then rubbed her eyes and accidentally burped.

"Something the matter my Thane?" Asked Lydia, her housecarl, bemused by her releasing gas.

"I'm heading to Riften tomorrow. I've got an errand to run." The Dragonborn replied.

Lydia nodded. "Of course my Thane. What would you like me to do?"

Lydia was an honest, noble woman and loyal as they come. She had the determination as the Dragonborns Housecarl to defend her and all that she owned. Standing up straighter than a floorboard, there was no fear in her eyes. But occasionally she had some wit. The Dragonborn noticed she didn't like to carry much, considerably the Dragonbones and Scales that the Dragonborn seemed to collect after smiting a problematic dragon that would arise. All Lydia could say that she was sworn to carry the Dragonborns burdens, but had a sarcastic writ to it.

"If one of the Companions need me, just send a Courier." Said the Dragonborn.

Lydia nodded. "Of course My Thane."

She went upstairs and headed to her bedroom. She took off her armour and placed it next to her bed. For the Dragonborn, sleep was never easy, due to having beast blood. She laid down on the bed and stared at the roof, which had a few missing boards up top, revealing a partial view of the night sky. She blew her candle and tried to rest. Laying on her back, she allowed her eyelids to fall, eventually succumbing to sleep.

A dream came to her being. Funnily enough, it'd been the first dream she'd had in a long while since drinking Aelas blood during her initiation into the Circle. Well, maybe second dream. She'd long had fantasy's of Farkas, which made her chuckle at some point. The Dragonborn never knew how to approach the subject. But...as a Nord, she wouldn't let men rule her life. It would be a sub quest for her. But for now, her trip to Riften was just an errand. Nothing more.

The Dream floated in through clouds, then suddenly on top of a mountain. It then flashed to a glorious battle with the Draugr, over some magical artifact that she was desperate to find. The Dragonborn had no idea what it was they were fighting over. It was odd indeed. However, the view changed from a lower perspective, where one of the Draugr twisted over, it's cold, glowing eyes glared and stabbed her in the chest. The response made her shoot up from her bed, gasping for air. A hand rested on her chest as her heart beated quickly. Her blood was on fire by this point. Looked like she needed some...air.

The Dragonborn got out of bed and put some of her blue apprentice mages clothes on that she got out of her bed chest. This was normally when she wanted to run around let off some steam as well as being a bit stealthy without the clanking weapons and armour that she normally carried. She tiptoed out, trying to be quiet while Lydia was asleep. The floorboards creaked, with the Dragonborn wincing, honing in to see if it had woke her housecarl up. A few moments later, nothing was heard, giving a sense of relief to the Dragonborn. One of her magical spells that she'd learned was Muffle, courtesy of the Jarls' Court Mage. She'd learned to ensure her sneakiness was well insured. She'd cast it, and made her way outside.

The sky was indeed still clear, but it was very dark, save for some guards walking around with their torches. She snuck around near but not to near the city walls, hiding when a guard went passed. It wasn't that she was afraid of the guards themselves, but she feared that they would notice one of the Thanes was sneaking about. For her task wasn't noble, but mainly a stress-reliever. But no one took kindly to those who possessed the beast blood, often attacking on sight. The Dragonborn was heading to Jorrvaskr, the mead hall of the Companions. Or better yet, she was heading to the Underforge, a secret place where members of the Circle would meet. She managed to sneak around behind, eventually reaching the hidden passage which was encased on the edge of a cliff and pressed a button, lowering a part of part of the wall.

Once inside, she waited until the wall rose up again. It wasn't...spacious. Mainly rocky with with a stone bowl in the middle. Someone else was in here as they stood up from one of the Shrines, which there were three with individual totem-like objects. She wore cloth armour with some shoulder pads, which was...kind of revealing in some standards. Her hair was brownish red, shoulder length and had three diagonal strokes of black war paint on her face.

"Do you have wisdom for me Harbinger?" The woman asked, her voice strong and assured.

"Uh, well let's see..." The Dragonborn answered, thumbing her lip. "How about the best kind of prize is a surprise?"

Aela smirked and crossed her arms. "If that was your attempt at a joke, that was pretty bad."

The Dragonborn chuckled. "Well, you could always use it against your foes."

Aela rose an eyebrow. "Giving them the gift of stabbing them in the back? I'd rather give them the chance to retaliate."

Aela was born with combat in her blood, coming from a line of Companion built women. She lived for the hunt and the battle as any Nord would be. She fully supported the notion of the Beast Blood, seeing as a gift. In fact, she was eager enough to allow the Dragonborn to drink hers, welcoming a new member into the fold and for someone to share the hunt together. They'd battled the Silver-Hand, those completely opposed to Lycanthropy, evidenced by the caging, slaughtering and skinning of werewolves in their little forts that they had across Skyrim. In the end, their lust for battle cost them important lives on both sides.

"So what brings you here tonight?" Aela wondered.

The Dragonborn sighed. "Just popping out for a run. You know that sort of thing..."

Aela smiled. "Ah good. Well if you want something to do, I've gotten word there's a group of bandits that have made their home in the abandoned Western Watchtower."

The Dragonborn gave a soft smile. "Really? Out in the open like that? They do know that tower is practically useless now..."

Aela shrugged. "Doesn't matter to them. The Bounty for them should be released any day now. But I think you should be able to deal with them beforehand."

The Dragonborn raised an eyebrow. "You don't want any Septims?" She asked.

Aela shook her head. "It's not about the gold...it's about the challenge. They're too easy a target. I prefer a locked down place that's good and tight...but easy to infiltrate once you're on to it. Go on...get your hunt on. Might do you some good."

The Dragonborn nodded, smirking. "Alright then if that's your decision...geez with all this maybe you should be Harbinger..."

Aela chuckled. "I don't think so. We've all taken to heart that the choices that Kodlak had made were the right ones."

The Dragonborn smiled. "Even the Harbinger needs help every so often. Asks the other Companions for their opinions."

Aela sat back down on her knees and raised her arms before one of the Totems. "That is true Harbinger. Now go..."

And with that, The Dragonborn slipped out of her mage clothes and willingly transformed into a Werewolf...a brutal process, with fur growing out of her skin, the extension of her face, growing into a long snout, eventually snarling when the event had finished, lengthening her claws and staring at each paw that had grown. She felt alive. With that feeling in mind, she crawled out of the cave and came out of other side of the protective wall, facing out in the open lands of Skyrim. It indeed was a beautiful night for a stroll...or a run. She charged forward, stretching her gangly wolfy arms and legs, digging her claws into the earthen terrain. There was something about running around at night that was so peaceful and calming, despite being in a Wolven form. She did well to remember the Circles mantra for Werewolves. "Eyes on the Prey, not on the Horizon." Were the words that she had brazened in her mind, thanks to Farkas. Rabbits fled when she ran past, foxes running away in their cowardice. Nothing out of the norm.

Whiterun Hold was for the most part, held the flattest of plains of Skyrim and yet it boasted the tallest mountain known as the Throat of the World, bearing the Greybeards home, High Hrothgar. The Dragonborn had climbed the seven thousand steps to the top, battling a few Frost Trolls along the way. But for now, she was on her way to her little spot by the White River. Nice and secluded.

Her superior eyesight and smell detecting some travelers along the road that was coming into view. From her scent, it was the Thalmor with a supposed. 'Heretic.' Damned Elves. She growled as she crawled above a cliff edge. She had been breathing heavily, as drool slipped out of her mouth from utter rage. Everyone detested the Thalmor, so what harm was there into maiming a few?

The Thalmor were part of the Aldmeri Dominion, a group of Elves that had fought the Imperials in the Great War some decades ago. Peace came when the Imperials signed the White-Gold Concordat, outlawing the worship of Talos, the God of Mankind. The Nords, being a proud people hated this, and this was in part reason why the Stormcloaks had been fighting in the Civil War. The Dragonborn was a Nord, so she too, felt the urge to push and fight, but she had her morals to deal with. She was not an Imperial or a Stormcloak for that matter so it was not her business when both had their good and bad points.

But...all could agree on the snideness that was the Thalmor, who were ultimately detestable. They believed their superiority over man and when the chance arose they would prove their narcissism. If they had their way, they would take over Skyrim in a heartbeat.

For now, the Dragonborn waited until the group of Thalmor had passed, sniffing and checking which direction the wind was coming from, then jumped over onto the stony pathway and slowly tailed them until the Dragonborn decided when there would be the perfect time to attack. Given in time, they came across a lowly hillside. The Dragonborn bore her teeth into a wolfish grin as she crawled up the hillside quickly and silently. She could see their prisoner was a lowly fair haired Nord with a rugged face, holding his hands in front of him, obviously chained. She lowered her head and sniffed again. A mighty growl was sounded as she jumped into battle.

The battle was short and sweet...well, at least their Elven corpses were. The Nord had run off in one direction in fear, but mainly because the Dragonborn had given off an intimidating roar. It was better for him to flee alive than to try to attack her. It was common though. Despite the assistance into freeing or helping people, the fact was that you were a Werewolf and therefore to be feared and hunted down. She fed on the last Elf, and roared into the sky before heading down towards the White River.

She hadn't fed like that in a while. Merflesh was tastier than manflesh. Possibly that inspid magical blood that they have. Didn't matter though, her hunger was satiated for now. The wind was nice, blowing through her fur. Cool breezes don't cut through to the bone for Nords, owing to their fantastic resistance to the cold air. But being a Werewolf helped a lot, for all it's hardships.

The Dragonborn fled to a side cliff, overlooking the depths of the White River. This was her private spot, where she would wash herself. Making the way down, the river gushed across peacefully, the rockyness of the riverside digging into her forepaws. She changed back into her normal form and placed her mage clothes aside, taking off her underwear as well. Magical stuff that was, underwear...

The feeling of washing oneself was to die for, ridding the filth of weeks gone by...this was an experience only nobles seem to experience. But, at the same time, the Dragonborn was an adventurer, she didn't seem to care for the nobility part, only for the perks that being a Thane provided. The Dragonborn was a friendly face in Whiterun, conversing with the local populace, heading to the Local Inn for a drink.

Amongst washing her hair with some ingredients and a potion she'd made, she could feel something around her legs. She looked down, seeing a mudcrab about to snip her. The Dragonborn sneered at it, picking it up from the ground. Ugly looking thing. She garnered an evil grin as she through it at the riverside. From both her hands she formed fireballs, firing it at the Mudcrab and incinerated it. Licking her lips, the Dragonborn stepped out of the river and got dressed into her robes, and devoured the cooked crab. MM...it was tasty, despite eating Elves a hour before. After finishing, she cleaned up a bit more, before heading to the Tower

She remembered the first time she'd been to that tower. She'd killed a Dragon and absorbed it's power and soul, discovering her potential to be a Dragonborn. Returning back wasn't much of a fuss. It was just a normal tower with some rubble around it. Whether it was old it didn't matter. No one really claimed it much anymore. And at best, if there was any bandits, there might be most likely two or three. Why they had stationed themselves there was anyones guess. It left them completely exposed to Trolls, Giants and worse, Dragons.

She snuck around, avoiding the pathway on the way to the tower. As she got closer, she could see two bandits keeping guard. That would be right. She cast her Muffle spell again, ensuring that her sneaking was up high. She left her weapons at home, but kept a small, enchanted dagger around just in case. They rabbled on as they did, chatting away with a single torch lighting the area. The Dragonborn crept closer and closer. However, she stepped on a twig, making a loud snapping sound. Lifting her head, she could see the bandits had lifted their heads, whispering to each other. The Dragonborn quickly fled, keeping low and rolled to avoid being seen. She hid behind the tower itself.

"LAAS!" she whispered. It was an odd whisper indeed...for it was a Shout, words of a Dragon. She had used the Aura Whisper ability, in order to see where the Bandits were. For the brief ten seconds, she could see someone sitting down inside the tower, someone on top of the tower, and the other two bandits looking around. She kept in her crouched position, keeping an ear and eye out for them. She heard footsteps walking around. This was quite the thrill, avoiding them. Normally, during the day, she would be wearing her heavy armor gear, but..in the night she was something different...

"Probably one of those damned Foxes...tricky things." Said one of the bandits.

The Dragonborn became a bit more relaxed as she possessed a grin. They were a stupid lot.

She slithered around the side of the tower, hiding behind a bush, waiting for one of the bandits to sit down. Fiddling with her dagger, she became rather eager to finish this already. A thought came through to her head, thinking this reminded her of something the Dark Brotherhood would do. She would know, having a few Assassins following her trail. She had trouble of disposing of them however. No one tries to kill the Dragonborn and lives to tell the tale.

As one became relaxed, she came up from behind, covering his mouth with one hand and stabbing him in the back with the other. The dagger was pushed it forward, as she tried to commit to give him a quick death. As soon as he was limp, she dragged his body away and hid it in the bush. The other bandit came around the corner and bore a puzzled look on his face. The Dragonborn shuffled to the side, still hiding in the darkness. The other bandit murmured something, distracted...just what she wanted. She snuck behind him, slitting his throat and tossing his body to the side. Next, was going inside the tower itself.

She retouched her Muffle spell and cleaned her dagger before heading inside. All she saw was a foolish back turned to her. Creeping forward, a devilish smile overcame her as she slashed his throat, letting his body lie on the floor. She stared at it for a moment, taking a look at the book he was reading. Nothing interested or what she didn't have in her bookshelf. She let it down. Upon recollection, there was someone else here, on top of the tower. She lowered herself to a near squat and silently climbed the steps to the top.

Another bandit was sitting down, pondering at the sky, mumbling to himself. He appeared different to the other bandits, His hair, black and scruffy and possessing a beard upon which the likes she'd never seen. She tilted her head as he was reading a book, and watching the sky. He was another bandit, she kept telling herself. However, he was the only one there, and he couldn't just simply jump off the tower to save himself. She wanted him to go out True Nord style, leaving him to go onto...a noble death.

"Ahem..." The Dragonborn motioned, expressing her presence.

The bandit jumped and fell off the chair.

"Bah! How many times did I have to...tell you.." Said the bandit, turning around. His voice was of a different accent comparing to the one the Dragonborn was used to. He was wearing a white coat, his eyes...were of different colours, one darker than the other. Although that wasn't uncommon in Skyrim itself. He looked at the Dragonborn..up and down.

"woah Woah WOAH!" He yelled, fumbling back and raising his hands in a passive motions.

"Who are you?"

The Dragonborn went to a battle position. She had a fire spell ready as well as her Dagger.

"I am the Harbinger of the Companions! Here to bring honor by ridding this Watch Tower of bandits so that Skyrim and her people can be safe from you wretched filth!" She boasted.

The bandit shook his head. "Hey, let's talk about this alright? Please? Can we ju-"

The Dragonborn glared at him. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you..."

The bandit sighed with relief. "Okay, okay...you may THINK I'm someone aiming to kill and steal...but I've been kidnapped!"

The Dragonborn looked skeptical. "Kidnapped?"

The man nodded frantically. "Yes yes! You see? I came into this strange land, had no idea what was going on! But then I got kidnapped by these...people! Then they sold my friend off to some...wizard dude and walked away and..."

She could see he was stressed and genuinely in trouble. She had to know a few things first.

"Let's say I believe you. Okay? Give me your name Milk Drinker."

The man nodded and rubbed his neck. "My name is Doug. Doug Rattman. I'm not from here, where ever here is."

The Dragonborn crossed her arms. "This is Skyrim. Surely your captors would have told you that by now."

Doug bit his lip. "Well...uh...I come from some place far away then! I think I had an incident with the Portal gun then-"

The Dragonborn raised her palm at him. "Okay I get the picture. You're not from Skyrim...you were kidnapped and they sold your friend to a Wizard..."

He fell to his knees and put his hands into a praying position. He was practically begging her.

"Yes yes! Now please! You seem like a reasonable person! I need to find my friend! Would you know where this Wizard would take him?"

She thumbed her lip. "Hmmm...sorry no...he might be another bandit. And there are hundreds of places where Bandits would hide...and I doubt it would possible to look for them all." She said with disappointment.

He ran his hand through his hair. He was shaking and whimpering. Honestly, she was surprised he was still alive at this point.

"But! I heard them say something...called...uh...damn what was it...Wintergold?"

The Dragonborn lifted her head. "Winterhold?"

Doug nodded and smiled. "Yes that was it!"

Winterhold. A city holding on to a tight edge on the side of a mountain, after majority of the building fell into the sea after the great collapse. Many suspected the cause was from the College of Winterhold, an infamous school where Mages go to study their magic freely, but aren't without their ire, since it was left completely unharmed. Since then, most Skyrim magic users are teased and taunted, but many of their skills are needed throughout the Province. The Dragonborn was a student, needed some basic and some slightly advanced skills in order for progress to be sounded in some areas. Plus she had some well needed contacts within in case anything came up.

"That's up North East of here..." She said. "Stay close to the roads. It's dangerous out there."

Doug pulled on her leg, but she stepped back in surprise, pulling her dagger out.

"Can't you come with me?" He pleaded. "You look like a strong girl! In fact! You remind me of someone I know!"

The Dragonborn chuckled nervously. "You can hire a Carriage up at Whiterun Stables. They'll take you to any of the main cities for a reasonable price." She said, shuffling back a bit more as Doug begged.

He eventually stood up, back cracking. "Ugh...man...anyway." He groaned. "I'm afraid I don't have any cash on me."

He demonstrated his proof when he pulled out his pockets. He wore a white shirt and brown pants...and his shoes...looked weird...black near shining looking things. The Dragonborn picked up his book and handed it to him. She informed him to stand here while she went downstairs. He picked at her notion. He was just so damned confused! There was so much here that he couldn't even compare to the life he had behind. In fact, it was just the opposite. Wow...was this what life was outside the Science Centre?

She came back not too long after. "Hold out your hand." She ordered. He held out his hand to her. Doug jumped as she gripped on to his wrist a little too tightly and forced something smooth and cold into the palm of his hand.

"Here is Fifty Gold." She explained, staring sternly into his eyes. "I can take you to the Stables for now."

He nodded frantically. "Thank you so much m'am! You have no idea how much this means to me!"

The Dragonborn gave off an awkward smile, then her expression to one of seriousness. "Come on, get into gear. We're leaving!"

The Stables wasn't too far from the Watchtower. In fact, Doug knew this place as Whiterun, judging from what the Bandits had mentioned. From where he was stationed, he could see a lot. The plains, the mountains. Occasionally they spoke of High Hrothgar and the Greybeards. He was really out of it, like his world had reset entirely. There weren't enough memories to sort through. Although, being beaten up by bandits may have had something to do with it.

They made it up to the Stables as The Dragonborn approached the Driver. He was asleep, forcing the Dragonborn to roll her eyes.

"Hey! Wake up!" She said, clicking her fingers in his face.

Doug tugged at his coat sleeve. "You know we could have waited until morning..." He croaked.

The Driver lifted his head, looking around in his daze. "Uhhh what?" He groaned. Then he saw her.

"Oh...it's you...uh...where do you want to go?"

She smirked, flinging her hands to her hips. "This man needs go to Winterhold. Immediately."

The Driver yawned. "Graaaaaah...okay, That will be Fifty Septims."

Doug scratched his head. "Ehhh waaha?"

The Dragonborn rolled her eyes. "Give him the Gold. The faster you do so, the faster you'll get there."

Doug blinked in realization. "Oh! Right! Here mate!" He said, handing the gold over.

The Driver yawned once more. "Just hop in back and we'll be off." He said in his tired tone.

Doug nodded and faced the Dragonborn. She seemed stern, brave and rather pushy. This combined with her looks reminded him so much of...her...the woman he'd tried to save but failed to. He had no idea how to get back. But...his friend was in danger. And Winterhold was the only lead that was given. This...woman, he could depend on her. She could help him out. He gave her a warm smile.

"Um...thanks for this! Can I ask you a question though?" He asked.

The Dragonborn groaned. "Yeah what is it?"

He rubbed his beard. Doug tended to keep doing that as he thought.

"Can I have a name? I mean, so...um...if I have to look for you."

The Dragonborn gave a brief smirk. She had many names and titles. "I'm the Harbinger of the Companions, like I mentioned to you before. If you need anything, send me a letter. Trust me, you can always depend on the efficient ways of Couriers."

Doug nodded. "Right...Harbinger...very well then. Thank you again! Uh, Harbinger."

The Dragonborn rolled her eyes. "Just don't get yourself killed...now go..the Driver is waiting."

Doug smiled and forcibly took the Dragonborns hand and shook it. "Thank you thank you THANK YOU! I owe you big time! I will pay you back that money I swear!"

The Dragonborn tried to appear apathetic, but smiled as he hoped on back of the carriage and waved to her. He was certainly an interesting fellow to say the least. But she hoped he would get to save his friend again.

Doug had an oddity to him, his whole...vibe, something she had never encountered before. He didn't feel like a Nord or a Breton, but his eccentric and timid personality was simply fascinating. The way things went around he must have had something up his sleeve that allowed him to survive this long. And what he was wearing...that white jacket...she'd never seen something so pure, something that the Altmer might construct. It definitely was not Dwemer. Heck she'd just been to a Dwemer ruin not long ago. In fact, that was why she was heading back to Riften in the first place. She'd found a weapon of someone who'd lost it some time ago and was going to give it back to them.

The Dragonborn kept her wits about her. According to what the stars had told her, it must have been early morning with only a few hours until a subtle sunrise. What an eventful evening. She'd saved someone from the Thalmor and saved someone from Bandits. She wouldn't mind meeting that man again. He must have been completely foreign to the entirety of Tamriel if she could guess.

But for now, she needed to head back home. She wondered if Lydia had woken up yet and wondered where her Thane had gone? A slight chuckled bellowed as she wandered forward, looking out to the western plains. She contemplated within her spirit and sucked in the air around her, smirking. She turned around to head back to Breezehome, possibly get some-

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Her head quickly flung around to the sound.

"SPAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!"

Something hard and fast fell from the sky, colliding with the ground and creating a huge explosion. From where she standing, she judged it was around that destroyed abandoned house. With a new sense of thrill she ran towards it to investigate.

And wondered if it possessed something for a new adventure.

Yes if anyone was wondering, this is inspired by the Portal 2 Mod for Skyrim. I figured it would only be time that a Cross over fic would be made about it...I just happen to be one of the first. (I hope)

For anyone else who's following my other stories...I know I want to get them done