Lilith loves to talk about her youth. In her own description, she was born and raised in a town built in the branches of a giant walking tree in Valenwood, the densely forested, subtropical region that encompasses the southwestern coastal plain of Tamriel. In the words of A Pocket Guide to the Empire, Valenwood is "a sea of endless green, a maze of foliage with half-hidden cities growing like blooms from a flower, the home of the Bosmer is Tamriel's garden."

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it? One small note, the heroine of this story has a problem with telling the truth from time to time, admittedly all the time. In her defense: When you grow up on the streets of Imperial City, you either learn to lie or you lose, and Lilith didn't like losing at all.

And while we're making things clear, as one of the worst Bosmer ever in botany, Lilith probably couldn't tell the difference between a graht oak and a dragon tree if her life depended on it. One of the many things in the young bosmer Lilith's life that she wouldn't confess to, even under torture, of course.

But all the talents of her ancestors were not lost. Although, strangely enough, some things were often "lost" when Lilith was around.

Of course, the defamation of being held responsible for the disappearance of other people's possessions was a baseless insinuation, vehemently denied by an innocent from Valenwood who had been unfairly vilified as a thief due to racial prejudice.

To avoid having to experience first-hand the conditions of the prison in the Imperial City's bastion, Lilith was forced at a young age to borrow a horse from the capital's stables and ride north. The direction of escape was determined less by the then inexperienced rider than by a stubborn horse, but since those days a prowler has had some practice in both riding and acquiring mounts.

Lilith has been working as a bard these days, or at least pretending to. Her favorite weapons are her sharp tongue, her equally sharp sword and her concealed throwing knives.

Of course, since life is full of injustices, even in Bruma, Lilith couldn't always avoid meeting people who were quick to judge or, as she put it, rude. Lilith's difficulties in telling the truth, or her problems in distinguishing clearly between "yours" and "mine", may also have played a small part in these problems.

An extremely unpleasant encounter with some cutthroats on the lakeside
Retreat made it seem advisable to take a pretty head further north while it was still well connected to her other body parts.

In Bruma I met an elven thief called Arvel the Swift, the name somehow reminds me of a famous bard in the Imperial City. Anyway, he told me about an old Norse ruin, Bleek Falls Barrow in Skyrim. That sounds like a good opportunity to find treasure and not share the loot afterwards. It's always funny how much other people trust me.

So far, so good? No, because what did poor Lilith have to learn on her way north? Well, what the heck, a s*it%y guy like that has more than one *h&tt$ mod on the go!