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"Aejiri, why are you being arrested?" Quintus asked his soon to be wife. Aejiri could tell he was very worried and knew that he would not approve of why she was arrested.

"It's a joke!" She nervously lied to her lover. "I was si...si... blast, what's that word? Silly? No,, it's.." She said before pausing. "Do shut you." She ordered herself. "She was [&@%!] near the water and assaulted a guard." The guard informed the average sized imperial. "No!" He gasped in horror at his soon to be wife's behaviour. "Why?" He asked her.

"Because... I... ooh, look at these." Aejiri told Quintus as she pointed to her chest. Her white tunic getting soaked had a rather embarrassing side effect to it but in her high state, she hoped she could use her assets to get out of revealing the truth.

"Aejiri, are you high?" Quintus asked Aejiri.

"High on you!" She said to her partner before clutching her stomach and left a dirty present on the ground.

"That's disgusting!" The guard remarked and beckoned another guard over. "Take her to the dungoen and be careful." He ordered his fellow guard. The guard nodded and grabbed her by the wrist. "I'm innocent!" Aejiri protested and tried to punch the guard.

The guard paid no attention to the weak punch given to him by the high nord woman. "Dragonborn or not, you will serve the time." He told her as he dragged her towards the dungeons. "Over my body!" She retorted and used the voice to escape his grip.

She failed to notice that they were at the top of the stairs at teh time and smashed straight into a wooden structure that held the archway up. She fell onto her back and clutched her head. "Ow!" She uttered before passing out.

Born in 4E 181 to a pair of traveling Argonian merchants, Wild-Like-The-Sea grew up as a nomad. She wandered the lands with her parents and learned all the skills she needed to survive from them; they taught her most of what she knew. The rest of her knowledge was gathered through her experiences in the wilderness and cities of Tamriel.

It was quite clear to her parents that she did not wish to follow in their footsteps forever. There would come a time when Wild-Like-The-Sea packed her belongings and left to pursue her own destiny - whatever that might be. That day came on her 19th birthday.

Upon giving her final farewells to her parents (it was unlikely she would ever see them again), Wild-Like-The-Sea set off on her first adventure. Her travels took her through Black Marsh, Cyrodiil, Morrowind, High Rock, and -perhaps the most important of all- Skyrim.

The young Argonian had spent the year tramping across Tamriel. Most of what she did was just insignificant mercenary work. Things didn't really change for her until she arrived in Skyrim; that change did not promise to be a good one. Not at first, anyway.

Wild-Like-The-Sea was assaulted by a group of bandits as she strode into Skyrim. Ordinarily she could have fought them off, but this time she was greatly outnumbered: ten heavily armed bandits and one Argonian mercenary. They disarmed her and robbed her of all her belongings, leaving her with nothing but the underwear she had on underneath her armor. The Argonian was left to stumble, shivering and nearly defenseless, down the path.

Her misfortune did not end there. By mistake, Wild-Like-The-Sea stumbled upon a group of Imperial Soldiers escorting carts of Stormcloak prisoners. They spotted her in the middle of the road and captured her, believing her to be a criminal. She was unceremoniously stuffed into a cart with the Jarl of Windhelm himself and taken with the prisoners.

They were taken to the town of Helgen for execution. Wild-Like-The-Sea felt nothing but shame as she was forced down onto the chopping block; she had let herself down, and in doing so, brought misery to her parents. She was quite startled when a Dragon flew down from above and started attacking the town.

The Dragon's attack gave her a second chance at life; it was an opportunity to rebuild what she had. Wild-Like-The-Sea fled Helgen with a soldier named Hadvar and, from there, eventually came to realize that she was the Dragonborn of legend. An Argonian... As an ancient Nord hero. An unusual circumstance if there ever was one.

She also became Harbinger of the Companions, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, a Legate in the Imperial Legion, a member of the Dawnguard, and more.

17th of Last Seed, 4E 201:

Today is the day I thought it was all going to end...

I was attacked and mobbed by a group of bandits not long after I arrived in Skyrim. They took everything I had -even my clothes- and left me with nothing but my underwear. No gold. No food. No water. I had nothing to my name.

There really wasn't anything I could do. I had almost no chance of getting new apparel, no food to fend off the hunger, no water to quench my thirst... My chance of dying from exposure was greater than somebody coming along to help me. I did the only thing I could do: I continued down the road in search of shelter.

Little did I know that a group of Imperial Soldiers was transporting two carts of Stormcloak prisoners up this very road. They encountered me, stumbling along the cold earth, shivering in the icy wind... Instead of offering to help me, they attacked me. I was knocked unconscious, dressed in rags, bound, and tossed into the cart containing Ulfric Stormcloak and two other men.

When I awoke, the Stormcloak sitting across from me started talking. I didn't really pay much attention to him and, instead, I focused on the scenery. We were descending out of the mountains and heading towards a small town. Helgen. The mere presence of Ulfric Stormcloak was enough for me to deduce the Imperials were taking us for execution.

I had no choice but to follow along. I felt absolutely horrible; my mind kept dwelling upon my failure to defeat the bandits and how that brought shame to my family. My death was to have no honor. The others would die for their cause, but I had no reason to stand amongst them. I was no Stormcloak. I was no criminal. I should not have been there.

One Stormcloak was executed, defiant until his last moment. We all heard several thundering roars echo over the mountains, but General Tullius urged the executioner forward. I was called to the block. My heart was pounding furiously as I walked forwards; my limbs did not shake, but I held my head down in shame. This was not the death I deserved.

Just as the executioner lifted his axe, a gargantuan black Dragon burst from the clouds and landed upon the tower in front of us, the impact of his landing knocking the executioner to the ground. I could only stare in awe and shock as the Dragon rested his eyes upon me. For a moment, I felt as though I knew him and he knew me. A vague sort of kinship that you might feel towards extremely distant cousins.

He -this Dragon- used some sort of attack that sent me flying and killed the executioner. I was stunned for several seconds, and in that time, massive balls of rocks and fire rained from the sky. I was urged onto my feet by the Stormcloak from the cart and, together, we ran for the tower.

I made my way through the burning town and the underground fort with one of the Imperial Soldiers. His name is Hadvar. Anyway, we escaped the ruins together and went to Riverwood. Hadvar had an uncle who lived there, working as the town blacksmith. The two of us met him at his house.

After a brief explanation of the events of Helgen, Hadvar's uncle Alvor offered me some supplies and requested I do a favor for him: Riverwood was in danger -an unprotected town wouldn't last against a Dragon attack- and needed the Jarl's help. I needed to go to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun and ask that he send some guards to help defend Riverwood.

I agreed to do that. But first, I need to rest. The day has been a long and tiring one. After going through Helgen, I need to regain my strength.