Board Thread:Off Topic/@comment-14011542-20131009214425/@comment-50.254.242.246-20150223213841

Ærys is the granddaughter of Azthür the Lyon who served as a general in the Great War. Her hair as black as raven feathers, eyes as green as emeralds. As the beloved and only granddaughter of this heroic figure, it was only natural for her to follow in his footsteps. "All Nords are born with a sword in one hand and shield in the other! Even the little girls." He would remind her day and night. She trained day and night, sparing with other children.

Her father however, despite being the son of such a prominent Nord figure, preferred a simple and peaceful life. He despised violence and despised the idea of his only child wielding a sword like his father. When Ærys was of age, her father married her off to a Breton by the name of Biyorne. The man was easily twice her age and held no love for sword and country.

Her father paid her husband to take her from Windhelm and away from her Grandfather. At the start of the civil war, Ærys received word that her father had given his father to the Thalmor. The Thalmor had charged the Lyon with High Treason against the Empire for his beliefs in Talos and refusing to kneel to the power of the Elves. He was sentenced to death in three days time. However the death of the High King of Skyrim put a halt to his execution. This allowed him a chance to send word out to his grandaughter Ærys.

Upon receiving the letter of his execution she snuck away from her husband's bed and got passage towards Solitude where her grandfather was held. When she arrived, the city was in an uproar. Execution would soon begin. Many of Solitude's citizen were angry that the Lyon was to be executed like a common thief. Instead of an honorable death he would be tortured and beheaded for all of Solitude to see. A lesson to those who dared cross the Empire.

Ærys locked eyes with her beloved grandfather and dared not cry as he smiled upon her. Heart of a Lyon, Soul of a Dragon she repeated to herself over and over again. It was what he told her to keep her strong. Nothing however prepared her for what she saw. For hours they tortured him and laughed. This fallen hero disgraced before all. When it came time to behead him, he smiled at her tears in his dark green eyes. He looked older then, weak and frail. But his eyes filled with the strength of a hundred armies. When the axe came down, she felt the wind knocked out of her.

That night she took his remains from the Hall of the Dead and with the help of a few Nords gave him the proper burial he deserved. She left the city, vowing to seek out retribution on those who had wronged her. Starting with her father.

It was a long road back to Windhelm, but when she arrived after the long journey she found that she could not murder her father. Her grandfather would have frowned on it. Instead she decided to journey to Riften. She would get retribution from the Empire. She did not care about the the civil war. Her grandfather was for Skyrim as a whole not one faction or the other. Why should she bother to choose?

Then she saw him, Jarl Ulfric. He was headed out towards Darkwater Crossing. She knew he was headed toward a trap as she had saw Imperials camped not too far away. She raced to head him off hoping to prevent what happened to her grandfather from happening to him. She did not know why she bothered when she did not care for his rebellion. But something inside her said to save him.

When darkness arose, she sneaked into their encampment and began to search for where they held him. She found him in one of the tents and hurried to set him free. At the sound of eerie silence she stopped. Something was not right. Before she could get away a dark figure came and hit her in the back of the head with the hilt of their sword. Everything faded to black.

When she awoke she was headed to Helgen... a prisoner of the Empire.