For the first time in her life, she feels at home.

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Aelithe has been wandering the lands of Tamriel for as long as she can remember, and she can't remember much. As far as Aelithe is concerned, her existence began the moment she woke up in a rotted out tree trunk in Valenwood; naked, bruised and utterly filthy, unable to recall a single moment of her existence before that moment. Who she was and where she came from, Aelithe had never discovered, and given the state she was in upon her Awakening, she never had desired to find out.

After years spent in Valenwood, in which she picked up many useful skills from the local Bosmer, Aelithe set out on a journey. The destination was unknown. She went from land to land like a fallen leaf moves in the autumn breeze, lazily and without course. She earned septims through hunting until she quickly learned (upon visiting the Imperial City) that thievery was a more efficient way of fattening her coin purse.

And so it was upon stumbling upon Riften that Aelithe felt her heart stir with a strange warmth for the first time. As a whole she found Skyrim rather unimpressive, with her cold stark landscape and simple-minded people, but Riften....to her, Riften was alive. Here the septims were bloodied, the whores cheap, and the alcohol plenty. Here every man and woman lived for naught but themselves. Here is where the skeevers slept in the same bed as the schemers, the liars, the dreamers and the drifters...

and Aelithe loved it. She loved it all. Though her journey had no destination, she had found her way Home.