The holds have fallen. Cities are hollow shells, ruled by the dead and their scaled masters. The wind carries only the creak of abandoned gates, the rattle of bones, and the distant scream of dragons hunting over white ruin.

Step into Skyrim two centuries after Oblivion—but not as you remember it. Here, every path hides a roving band of draugr or skeletons. Two dragons claim each hold: one circling the skies, one lurking within the city’s corpse. In the shadows of those ruins dwell higher-tier draugr and masked dragon priests—echoes of the jarls they once were.

Updated: User now has the option to be the Dragonborn or not.