» Wed Mar 30, 2011 8:24 am
I can see it now...
You've purchased a cozy little shack in the hills outside of Riften where you spend most of your time growing herbs and concocting potions of one sort or another. It's a sweltering summer's day -- the peak of Sun's Height, and you're outside sweeping up the front stoop; a freshly baked sweetcake cooling on a nearby windowsill. It's delectable aroma wafting through the air and blending with the pungent odor produced by the many fisheries, which line the shores and streets of the nearby town. Suddenly the peaceful day is disturbed by a young Bosmer who comes rushing up your path and arrives at the foot of your porch, flushed, fevered and out of breath.
He swallows hard, quickly wipes his brow dry and proclaims in a panic, "The town is ablaze...dragons have attacked...not one, not two, but three have come to wreak havoc on this day. Surely you, our dragonborn hero, will quell this threat, save us from this horror and alleviate the town's dismay."
You continue with your menial chore as you glance up at the Wood Elf and say, "I'm sorry my young friend, but besides sweeping; the dishes need doing, the hedges need trimming and I've yet to begin to bale the hay." :blink: