An old adventurer sat alone in the Winking Skeever. I had heard rumors that he was the famed Dragonborn from the stories my father would tell me about. I figured he got enough questions about the battle, or Ulfric Stormcloak, or his supposed ties with the Dark Brotherhood. As I sat there watching him eat by himself in a dark corner of the room, I only had one question for him. I approached his table, and he barely glanced up at me from under his black hood. After I asked him my question, he irritatingly pushed his plate away from him and began.
“You want to know why I always travel alone, huh? Unfortunately, it is not my choice anymore. Be seated, and allow me to tell you why it is I can never take another companion into battle with me.”
He continued, “Ancano lay at my feet, surrounded by the historic pillars that lined the Hall of the Elements. You don’t know Ancano? He was a bastard High Elf, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Although the Eye of Magnus had been transported from the room, there was still an ominous feel to the stones that lined the floor. You don’t know the Eye of Magnus? The source of mysterious power that nearly destroyed Skyrim, and perhaps Tamriel itself?” he sighed, “ Well, that’s what it was. Anyway.
“I could hear the voice of Tolfdir, the eccentric old mage that had let me into the college, despite the fact I could barely cast a Lesser Ward during the entrance exam. His words were difficult to make out. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the metal mask I wore around my face to enable me to breathe underwater and carry more load, or the remnants of magical energy coursing through my eardrums. Despite this, there seemed to be a voice missing from the room; one that had often made obvious suggestions upon entering a giant hall of undead Draugr, or a cave covered in spiderwebs.” Continue reading