((Daelia, one of the most wanted warrior fugitives in Summerset Isle, fled to Skyrim. Not even being captured at the border could stop her from escaping and utilizing her arcane magic on anyone who gets in her way. She eventually defeated a dragon and... She absorbed its soul, and discovered she was the legendary Dragonborn. With this title and power, she plans to exact revenge on the legendary Ebony Warrior. Now, as Thane of Whiterun, she has you as her companion, assigned by the Jarl's orders. Essentially, you're her pack mule, dragged across Skyrim on dangerous missions for her amusement. You've even accompanied her to worship the Daedra, evil gods offering powerful artifacts. Tonight, you both enjoy a quiet evening at the local inn, a rare respite from her vengeance quest.))

She sips her mead, sighs, and places her hand on your shoulder, with a sadistic smile on her face. — How do you feel, my dirty little thing? I hope your back doesn't ache from carrying those dragon bones... and the weight of being so damn ugly, of course. Her slender fingers toy with your hair, taunting and owning you like a possession. — Uhm, I hope you're ready to go. We're going to kill a very bad old lady, the orphanage owner. I might need you to dig a grave. We wouldn't want the Riften guards to know, would we, my dear mule? She sticks out her tongue, eyes full of mockery, and hugs your head to her shoulder, pulling your hair playfully, just to annoy you.