The most peculiar of things happened the day she set foot inside of Kvatch, at first, Brona thought the eerie silence in the air came from the fact that the Imperial guard had finally caught up to her through the countless reports of angered nobles, and wealthy merchants having been robbed blindly by some Imperial woman performing sleights of hand, or the reports of their gold being taken from them in the dead of night. However, as she strolled through the familiar streets of the town, she noted the lack of birdsong that she listened for, or any presence of the local livestock. Come to think of it, she had a rather peaceful night’s sleep under the boughs of an oak tree the night before, which was a bit on the odd side, considering that many of the wild life kept her awake until the early morning hours, when she could afford to fall asleep for a few hours before dawn broke. 

	However, that was the 28th of Last Seed. When she made it inside Kvatch, Brona went through her normal routine of gifting the poor folk with coin, and selling the rest of her pilfered wares to the vendors. Normally, when people questioned where she found such items, she mumbled something along the lines that she enjoyed cave-diving, and exploring old ruins. Of course, for the finer things, she always had a backstory of some sort, any little lie that helped them take their mind off where she found it, and focus on paying her the share she was owed. After disposing of her lifted items, Brona pitched her tent outside the town, and settled down for the evening. To keep herself busy, and out of trouble, she took to mending her armor, sewing over the worn patches where holes had begun to form, fitting pieces of canvas underneath the holes, and sewing in smaller pieces of leather over top. While she wasn’t the best at leatherworking, at least it kept her from wasting the people’s money, as she thought of it in her mind’s eye, on new armor.

	The 29th of Last Seed continued much the same, the lack of birdsong prevailed through the air, as it normally served as a wake up call for Brona, now, she had overslept by a two full hours. A bit grouchy, she stuck to her camp, and decided that in the morning, she would start her way back to the Imperial City to see her family, as it had been seven months since she spoke to her mother and father last, let alone learn how Garius, Marcellus and Oriela were holding up. Last she heard, Garius had acquired a position as a guard on the docks, she was happy that he had found a stable job. Marcellus, now 31 like his twin, had married four years ago, and was expecting his first child. There were complications with his wife conceiving, so this was considered a blessing. He had a job working in the same fields as their father. Arcantina had slowed down in the working life, and Oriela had left her apprenticeship as a seamstress to look after their mother. 

	However, by the time nightfall came, Brona’s world was turned upside down. She had packed her belongings up, even her tent and bedroll, and was about to head out in the night to get a head start towards the city, when a great thunderous noise turned her gaze towards the sky above. There, the sky turned crimson, a deep shade of red, the color of blood, and while she expected to see brilliant white bolts of lightning to illuminate the sky, none ever came, only the booms of thunder. Immediately, she went to investigate, the guards didn’t say a word, for their attention too, was turned to the skies. What happened next, Brona can only recall in terrifying glimpses. Once inside Kvatch, throngs of frightened villagers made their way into the streets where utter chaos ensued. For some it was too late, homes and shoppes were ablaze, and as screams began to fill the air, Brona soon understood the source of it. Daedra. By the Gods, daedra were pouring out of swirling portals, funneling through the streets like droves of ants. Those that could, made their way to the Chapel of Akatosh, and so did Brona. She herself felt afraid at the sight of the daedra, to her, they had only been legend, but now they were here.

	So that was how Brona, and those inside the chapel came to be. Sleep never came that night for her. Her nerves were stretched thin with worry. Would the daedra outside overwhelm the chapel, and slaughter those within? Would she ever see the light of day again? What of her family? In a quiet corner, Brona had sat huddled in a ball, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

	It wasn’t until the sound of rapid knocking upon the chapel doors did she realize that she had dozed off. Struggling to her feet, her hands flew to the dual short swords at her hips. A female guard that seemed to be in charge of the others inside, opened the door, the air inside the chapel had become thick with fear. Would this be it? The moment of truth? As the door swung open, in spilled a towering Nord man, and a rather short Imperial woman. While the woman expressed her enthusiasm for making it inside safe, the man with her began scanning the room. Immediately, Brona sank back down, trying to make herself smaller in case they were looking for her, but she listened to the woman guard, gleaning what information she could from the situation. So the gates that the daedra were coming from hadn’t been closed, but they were looking for someone as she had suspected. The blonde Imperial inquired if there was a person by the name of Martin present in the chapel. To which there was.

	The situation in the chapel turned completely when it became apparent that volunteers were needed in help shutting the gates of Oblivion, and one by one, those brave enough began to voice that they would help. To Brona, it was suicide, but it also seemed suicidal to remain behind in the chapel when there was a chance at putting an end to the chaos outside. She was hesitant, and thought of her family, what would become of them if she did this? Or more importantly, what would happen to them if she [i]didn’t[/i]? From her crouched position in the corner, Brona slung her rucksack onto her shoulder and moved out of her hiding place.

“I will help too.” She didn’t need to explain herself, or what her skills were, so she thought. The fact that she was volunteering should be enough.