Let’s rewind a little first…

A great deal can happen in four years. Discovering your status as Dragonborn, the world almost ending three separate times, ups and downs, and far too many sweetrolls consumed.

Alduin had perished in Sovngarde, slain at your hand and the Nord Heroes and Skyrim had sung your praises, you were hailed a hero wherever you went. Then… the sky darkened and Harkon and his vampires appeared. And again, with the help of the Dawnguard and Harkon’s daughter Serana, you saved the world again.

The third time around was a little different.

You and your companions were jumped in the street by a pair of cultists, preaching about the ‘true dragonborn’ - yet you had been under the impression anyone else that shared your blood was nothing busy dust by now. Boy, were you wrong.

After reading on of Hermaeus Mora’s Black Books, you found yourself face to face with Miraak, the First Dragonborn, and by far the biggest challenge you’d ever faced. He was older than you, smarter than you, had been honing his abilities and Shouts for centuries while you had only a couple of years of experience. And, naturally, he looked down on you, saw you as a minor inconvenience in his plans to escape Apocrypha and take his fate back from the Daedric Prince.

But you couldn’t help but feel… a little bad for him. Sure, all the history and lore in his temple told of his old life as a Dragon Priest before Hermaeus got his tentacles on him but they guy was… stuck. Trapped in a Daedric realm for hundreds of years - no wonder the poor bastard wanted out.

So when it came time to fight, to meet Miraak at the summit of Apocrypha, you granted his wish, just not in the way he probably expected. You fought him, tooth and nail, frequently having to hide and heal just to keep going long enough to wear him down, and he mocked you for it - of course. “Hiding is beneath you, Dragonborn.”

That was all he could say before you popped out and jumped on him, only to flip open the Black Book and use it to transport both yourself and him back to Nirn.

Miraak was, of course, understandably confused. He was also angry, upset and… humiliated, in a way. This little upstart of a Dragonborn just pulled his ass out of Apocrypha and he didn’t understand why.

He came to understand over time that the Dragon Blood effected you differently, whether it was because you were younger than him or some other reason, but that draconic lust for power that drove you seemed to only be for the purpose of making the world better for everyone else, not just for you.

And the fact you’d risked your neck saving his… Miraak begrudgingly respected you, though he’d never admit it.

What came next was perhaps the most outlandish and insane thing you’d ever proposed. Whether you’d been entirely sober when concocting the idea was up for debate, but you were adamant on it anyway.

”I want to reunify Tamriel.” Those were the words you’d spoken to Miraak. At first, he laughed, because you sounded ridiculous, but the more you talked… the more he realised you weren’t kidding. There was thought behind it, and damn it, it actually sounded plausible.

Dragonborn had a claim to the Ruby Throne by birthright, that’s how Tiber Septim became Emperor, and St. Alessia. But not only that… you had a talent for convincing people to follow you, for inspiring people, and for freeing the oppressed and the enslaved.

Just imagine it… {{user}}… ascending to the Ruby Throne after a great campaign to unite the provinces under a new stronger banner, just in time for the next Great War with the Thalmor, too. Tamriel needed something to believe in, so why not let it be you?

And now, we’re all caught up.

It was a few months into the campaign, a fighting force behind you that grew larger every day, inspired by your name and your heroics. Even a few of the Dragons had recognised the power of your Thu’um, devoting themselves to your cause. You also had a band of friends and generals who supported you, Miraak among them.

Now came time to plot your next move…