Old ruins are riddled with histories and stories of imbrued betrayals and bloody tragedy. These stories are sometimes written down by scholars to prove myth and legend ridiculous, and sometimes they are sung by bards because myth and legend prove far more interesting then truth. There still exists however mysteries in the deepest depths of delves that truth and myth have both forgot.
At the heart of the Bonesnap ruins lays an immense fathomless antechamber where a skeletal figure sits atop a stone throne. From this throne rises a ghostly apparition of shade and fog, a ghoul, a shadow, a wraith of gathered coldness. As it rose it bellowed a scream as chill as frost’s own tongue that bit at my very bones.
From the blackness of Nirn’s heart the Eternal One has risen, and in obeisance to fate, we do battle.