» Thu May 03, 2012 8:24 pm Prologue
Spoiler
It was a warm day in Last Seed when I hiked through the Jerall Mountains of Cyrodiil. I had come from my native province of Valenwood to see the sights of Elsweyr, Cyrodiil, and Skyrim, and I’d gotten a fair ways since the beginning of my journey.
I took out my map. So far, I’d crossed off Elsweyr and Cyrodiil. This meant that I only had to cross the border to Skyrim in order to complete my trek. As I continued walking up the steep incline, I remembered what had lead me here.
As a child, I had read plenty of books. The pictures of other provinces fascinated me - Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Skyrim, in particular - and I had always longed to travel there and meet the native people. Of course, I never had the coin to do so.
The years passed, and I began to save up, Finally, at the age of twenty-four I had collected enough extra funding to afford carriages to to the main cities in Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Skyrim. I grabbed my coinpurse, longbow, arrows, and a tunic, and set off.
The first week went slowly. It was just travelling through Valenwood, to get to Elsweyr. However, once we crossed the border, I was taken aback. The Khajiits there were so beautiful, as were the plants. Lush, exotic flowers and intensely sweet fruit grew in abundance in this nearly-tropical land of greenery. One native, named K’harran, was even nice enough to show me what plants were safe to eat, and where to find the sweetest fruit. I befriended that Khajiit, and told him I’d never forget his kindness and patience. Then we visited a few of the cities, and traveled north more. Then came another shocker. The jungle suddenly opened up into a desert wasteland.
I’d heard about these badlands, and seen drawings, but this magnitude of beauty simply could not be expressed through words. The dust-colored rocks had tumbleweeds strewn over them, and as the carriage rolled through, I couldn’t help but be homesick. I’d never traveled this far away from a forest before, and I wasn’t used to it. However, I knew I’d have to overcome that if I wanted to continue with my voyage.
Several days later, we came to the Cyrodilic Border. As we crossed, the badlands gradually transitioned into a plain countryside. After a few hours, we arrived in Skingrad. I tried to talk to the locals, but they all seemed to have better things to do. Feeling slightly depressed, I left the city and travelled to the biggest attraction in Cyrodiil; the Imperial City.
We arrived within a few days, and I got to see the White-Gold Tower with my own eyes. Its magnificence is unmatched in the entirety of Cyrodiil, and it is truly a sight to see. I entered, promptly being told that I was not to go to the upper parts of the Tower. I, being incredibly law-respecting, obeyed.
We went to a few other cities, as well, but none were quite as glorious as the Imperial City. In the next few days, I saw everything outstanding about Cyrodiil. Everything, that is, except the Jerall Mountains.
We arrived there, and I stepped off of the carriage. Even the most well-trained horses couldn’t scale the Jerall mountains. I’d have to cross the border myself. I took the easiest path possible, which wasn’t very easy even still. I kept slipping, and at one point I was hanging for my life from a ledge. Using my acrobatic skills, however, I managed to maneuver myself onto the ledge. In the process, unfortunately, my arrows slipped from the quiver on my back. I tried to snatch them, but missed.
Finally, after four hours of exhausting climbing, I’d reached the top. I climbed down the other side with much more ease, and started walking. It was incredibly quiet. Almost too quiet, I thought. Then I found out why.
Three Imperial Soldiers ambushed me and a few men in blue cuirasses who happened to be walking by. The blue-clothes attacked the soldiers, and a soldier knocked one of them out with his shield. He did the same with the other ones, and then turned on me. My last thoughts before I heard the sickening crack of a soldier’s shield connecting with my face was how I was so far from home.
I took out my map. So far, I’d crossed off Elsweyr and Cyrodiil. This meant that I only had to cross the border to Skyrim in order to complete my trek. As I continued walking up the steep incline, I remembered what had lead me here.
As a child, I had read plenty of books. The pictures of other provinces fascinated me - Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Skyrim, in particular - and I had always longed to travel there and meet the native people. Of course, I never had the coin to do so.
The years passed, and I began to save up, Finally, at the age of twenty-four I had collected enough extra funding to afford carriages to to the main cities in Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Skyrim. I grabbed my coinpurse, longbow, arrows, and a tunic, and set off.
The first week went slowly. It was just travelling through Valenwood, to get to Elsweyr. However, once we crossed the border, I was taken aback. The Khajiits there were so beautiful, as were the plants. Lush, exotic flowers and intensely sweet fruit grew in abundance in this nearly-tropical land of greenery. One native, named K’harran, was even nice enough to show me what plants were safe to eat, and where to find the sweetest fruit. I befriended that Khajiit, and told him I’d never forget his kindness and patience. Then we visited a few of the cities, and traveled north more. Then came another shocker. The jungle suddenly opened up into a desert wasteland.
I’d heard about these badlands, and seen drawings, but this magnitude of beauty simply could not be expressed through words. The dust-colored rocks had tumbleweeds strewn over them, and as the carriage rolled through, I couldn’t help but be homesick. I’d never traveled this far away from a forest before, and I wasn’t used to it. However, I knew I’d have to overcome that if I wanted to continue with my voyage.
Several days later, we came to the Cyrodilic Border. As we crossed, the badlands gradually transitioned into a plain countryside. After a few hours, we arrived in Skingrad. I tried to talk to the locals, but they all seemed to have better things to do. Feeling slightly depressed, I left the city and travelled to the biggest attraction in Cyrodiil; the Imperial City.
We arrived within a few days, and I got to see the White-Gold Tower with my own eyes. Its magnificence is unmatched in the entirety of Cyrodiil, and it is truly a sight to see. I entered, promptly being told that I was not to go to the upper parts of the Tower. I, being incredibly law-respecting, obeyed.
We went to a few other cities, as well, but none were quite as glorious as the Imperial City. In the next few days, I saw everything outstanding about Cyrodiil. Everything, that is, except the Jerall Mountains.
We arrived there, and I stepped off of the carriage. Even the most well-trained horses couldn’t scale the Jerall mountains. I’d have to cross the border myself. I took the easiest path possible, which wasn’t very easy even still. I kept slipping, and at one point I was hanging for my life from a ledge. Using my acrobatic skills, however, I managed to maneuver myself onto the ledge. In the process, unfortunately, my arrows slipped from the quiver on my back. I tried to snatch them, but missed.
Finally, after four hours of exhausting climbing, I’d reached the top. I climbed down the other side with much more ease, and started walking. It was incredibly quiet. Almost too quiet, I thought. Then I found out why.
Three Imperial Soldiers ambushed me and a few men in blue cuirasses who happened to be walking by. The blue-clothes attacked the soldiers, and a soldier knocked one of them out with his shield. He did the same with the other ones, and then turned on me. My last thoughts before I heard the sickening crack of a soldier’s shield connecting with my face was how I was so far from home.
