I've finally finished reading LotR, caught up on A Song of Ice and Fire, and am looking for a good book that I've never read (as I resist the temptation of re-reading something.) Completely lost, I…Continue
I'm curious what you all think of the various followers found across Skyrim. Do you have a favorite? A least favorite? An interesting story? Personally, I am partial to Faendal for the early game. I…Continue
I had some interesting talks with friends about possible DLC features/plots, and thought it might be fun to see what you all think!So, if you could have an additional DLC for Skyrim of your own…Continue
A fire is burning in the hearth. Before it sleeps an aging, shaggy, and obscenely content dog who is currently not at all concerned with anyone's comings and goings. The chairs sit, unoccupied, and a leather-bound book, open, lies on a nearby end table. A closer glance at the book shows it to be a journal, handwritten, with a quill and ink pot at its side.
Will you see what stories it holds?
Einarr Iron-Oak, a Nord smith, healer, and warrior who champions the common folk.
Alcarien Laure, an Altmer of mysterious origins, but the most humble of intentions. A powerful mage, but foremost, a scholar, enamored with Skyrim and her people.
Bilandis Bittybundle, a merchant of peculiar short stature, born of a Breton farmer and a Bosmer huntress. Possesses a glib tongue and keeps his fingers firmly planted in many pies.
The welcome had been warm enough to thaw the frost in his joints, building up from the year in the North. A year.At the start, it had seemed an impossible span of time. But standing on the other end, looking back on the past twelve months, Ragnvaldr could see it as nothing but a brief episode in his life. And a necessary one. He…Continue
With faded blue eyes, he watched the filmy surface of the pond, nearly orange as it reflected the light of the rising sun, as it rippled lethargically as the wind coursed across it. All the world seemed caught and held, trapped in that moment of dawn-kissed stillness. The breeze carried gentle sounds to his ears: the rustling of the leaves, the tentative morning songs of birds, the stirrings of his horse. As he sat on the ground, arms propped on his angled knees, the man drank it all in,…Continue
At first, I did not recognize the name that Hoster used to regard this strange horseman. I was focused on our mission- to report the danger to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun- and frankly quite irritated by the distraction. Did Bilandis and Hoster not understand the urgency of the situation? It was hardly the time to stop and chat with travelers on the road.
Had I been less intent on continuing a rather bitter and irritated inner monologue, I might have noticed the sunken expressions on my…Continue
The idyllic village I had pictured in my mind when fantasizing about a life in Skyrim held few differences from Riverwood. A fairer, greener town I had not ever imagined. Quaint homes were perched on the gentle hill, and the honey-slow river babbled nonsensically as it made its course just beyond the town. The river separated the mill from the main town, creating a small island. The creak of the mill, the scent of the pines, the flow of the river; it was all like some vision from my dreams.…Continue