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The Greybeards never used to tell me much, we rarely spoke at all. Yesterday morning Wulfgar had left me a note.

My family, my blood relatives. They were taken from their home for Talos worship, executed as traitors to the empire when they refused to bend their knee.

I thanked Wulfgar later, he simply nodded. Since then I left High Hrothgar, spending my time up the tower overlooking one of the old ruins. I thought the air would clear my head, give me time to think. I barely notice the rain, too focused on recent events.

I remember them, these distant people, they were my family. Wulfgar wouldn't have let me know if he didn't think it was important... He may not approve of my actions from this point, but at least he was understanding enough to give me the choice.

A choice Arngeir would have most certainly denied me if it had been up to him.

The Thalmor have no purpose here, no say in the ways of this land. Who gave them the right to act as they wish in our homeland, my homeland!

The talk of their secrets and plots, their abductions and inhumane methods. Nothing short of evil.
My travels around the land so far have been nothing but dungeon, ruins and forts. I have heard the people though, traders, patrols and travelers.

They all tell the same tale - Avoid the Thalmor.

Now, the Dovah rise and the land tears itself apart. The greybeards and Paarthanax stay clear at the top of the mountain, and I stand here, in the rain. Alone.

As for the Thalmor and their war?