Meanwhile, in an alternate dimension...

''Wait, is this Jamaa in the Skyrim Dimension or Skyrim in the Jamaa Dimension? Oh, what am I saying. Of course it doesn't matter. ''

The Jammerborn meandered down the steps of the awe-inspiring Dragonsreach Bridge. Guards teased him constantly, although it was obvious and clear that he was the Jammerborn.

It didn't bother him however. He usually shrugged off these petty insults...

On the way out of Whitejam, an odd otter wearing some fine, red clothes stood in front of the Jammerborn. He was clearly of Jammerfell descent, but had the voice of a snobby Thaljammor. What kind of idiot stands in front of the Jammerborn like THIS?!

The otter puffed up his fur and said, in the most despicable manner, "Do you get to the Cloud District often?"

The Jammerborn was getting ready to answer, but then the otter interrupted him.

"Oh, what am I saying, of course you don't."

The Jammerborn considered beheading the otter then and there, but he wasn't that kind of guy.

"Oh, it took years, but I earned my way to the top. I own Chillfurrow Farm, you see. Very successful business. Obviously," explained the otter.

The Jammerborn had never even heard of such a farm, and was very disgusted by the otters words. Instead of killing the otter right on the spot, he began to stomp out of Whitejam with rage, through the Jammergreen, Wind District and everything else. He barged through the door without even asking the guards, and stood out into the brisk and chilled air of Skyjam.

Suddenly, a voice sounded behind him. "Do you get to the Cloud District very often?"

The Jammerborn became even more furious. He grabbed the otter by the neck, and trekked through the whole world, over snow, forests, and mountains. He literally single-handedly beat a frost troll to the ground with one of his paws, and held the otter in the other.

According to some sources, he slew a dragon on the way there, too. With his bare hands. While holding the otter.

The otter continued to brag about his farm as the Jammerborn swam through rivers, and wrestled bears. The Jammerborn had a plan, however, and he would not kill the otter. Yet.

Finally, he trekked up the Seven Thousand Steps (but there are only like 200 steps sadly and the name is a lie) wrestling bears and wolves and ice wraiths and other stuff, all with one paw.

He went right through High Hrothjam, not even bothering to speak with the Jambeards. He scurried up the mountain, sadly without listening to any of Paarthurjam's meditative speeches.

He stumbled to the very peak of the Throat of the World, and sat the otter right next to him.

"FUS RO DAH!!!!"

The otter went flying.

Flying, flying away.

Then he landed in the Cloud District, and died.

The guards stood around, and looked at the mangled otter corpse. "By the gods, what happened here?"

Although 10 seconds later they forgot about it

"So, have you heard about those soldiers from Jammerfell? I heard they got curved swords..." said one guard, oblivious to the corpse he was standing on.

"Curved. Swords."