‘Where am I going…’
The Dragonborn walked casually through the subterranean tunnels of this ancient Dwemer ruin, in search of an Elder Scroll.
‘Of all the places for it to be in… It couldn’t be in someone’s library, no, it had to be part of another deathly descent into the unknown!’
Even though trouble waited for him down there, the Dovahkiin was armed to the teeth. A thick protective shell of dragon bones encased his body. A brown furry timber cloak covered his back. There was an even furrier, though white in color, part of this cloak surrounding his neck.
Should he be blistered by the outside wind, he would have that warm and trusty animal pelt to cover himself with. But he would first and foremost have his true Nord blood as…
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