My homeland has been torn apart by civil war.

The Empire uses its vast might to crush the uprising. The rebels refuse to break, giving blow for blow, blood for blood, death for death. The snows run red. Holds are splintering from within as family turns on family. No one knows who to trust. My home is tearing itself apart.

And I'm not even sure which side is right.

People would laugh at me for that. What would I know about right and wrong? I'm a thief. I begged on the streets of Riften before the Guild took me in. I spent years with them, stealing for money or just to survive. I was nothing. I meant nothing to anyone.

Now all of Skyrim knows my name. Imperials and Stormcloaks alike claim it is my divine destiny to help them. Champion they call me. Savior.

Dragonborn.

I just wish I knew what that meant.

My name is Issana Hastratus, and this is my story.