Just received my http://oi40.tinypic.com/sevdyv.jpg, and I must say, Helllooo ol' friend! It looks as beautiful today as it did 11 years ago. I'm surprised that my crappy laptop even runs it!
It's time for Skaald Iron Fist, the Myrmidon of Markarth, and his trusty iron claymore to reunite with the gang at the Cornerclub, dance with a shirtless skooma addict, prowl the infested depths of a mad and ancient wizard (and charm his spawn), moon gaze on the Graze, talk the shalk and walk the bone... erm, walker. Banter poetic the Buoyant, "dumpster diving" for plates ('cause you know that flashy new cuirass is only 2gp away... I know, beauty before pride). Puzzle boxes and Dwemeri dreams of steampunk sheep. False gods, dead gods, mad gods... All cheese and no cake. A silent oath, deadly. Tail wags the Orc (meow), and war ravages the soul-keeper.
I am n'wah, outlander, scum, muthsera.
Keep moving!