OOC: This might be a beginning of a longer story, and it might not. I don't really have a story made up yet, so have that in mind when you comment. English is also not my primary language, so please tell me if I missed something horrible grammar-wise or something like that. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the read, and if not that you tell me why so I might improve.

In terms of lore, the story takes place in the third era, perhaps in mid- to late fourth century. Well before the Oblivion crisis anyway.


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It was raining. Not as much as it could have been, but the rain was still very persistent on the land north of Lake Rumare. The storm that had had the countryside in its grasp the day before had thankfully passed, but the rain was still there, as it had been for almost a week without holdup now. The landscape had become brown and bare. It was the last day of Frostfall, and just as rainy as always.

A hooded figure was walking on the road towards Bruma. The mud from the ground had crept far up on the tall boots, showing that the person had been traveling for quite some time now. In its right hand was a long wooden staff, held by an arm only partially shielded from the rain by a large cape swept around the body. Stopping for a moment, the person pushed back the hood, revealing brown hair put up in a long pony tail.

With a quick move, Talindiil let her hair flow freely over her shoulders and then put the hood back up again. She did like rain, but even her otherwise sunny temper was affected by this godforsaken never ending rain. The water had crept into her boots and every time she put down her feet, streams of cold water flowed up between here toes. Sometimes she wished she had a horse. But studying at the Arcane University didn't exactly make oneself very rich...

Pulling her cape closer to her body, she let out a small sigh and tried to forget all about horses and the water in her boots. Soon she'd reach the inn, it shouldn't be more than an hour or so. A somewhat clean bed, a warm meal and perhaps some nice company to share a story or two with. In any case, it had been a long time since she'd seen the owner now and if there were no other bearable persons there, Talindiil could at least catch up with him. She'd been visiting his inn for years at roughly the same times every year, so she'd got to know him pretty well. Not that it was hard to get to know him, hardly! He was an Imperial called Magnus Cosaidus with a charm and a warmth that made even the most sullen Orc open up to him, and he was just as open in return. One could say he was perfect for the job.

Talindiils thoughts came to a quick halt as she felt something grab her foot. Before she realized what was going on, she was lying face down on the road with her left boot stuck around a tree root that was growing between the stones in the road. Mumbling a few curses, she stood up and tried to brush off most of the mud and leaves from her pants and cape. After a few brushes and yet another sigh, she picked up her staff. A last look at the despised root and she was traveling onwards once more.

I wonder if that group of bards still plays at the inn, she thought to herself as she was walking past an old Ayleid well.
The last few years she had visited Magnus' inn, there had been a group of bards playing various old and new songs and tunes, much to the wary travelers delight. Also, they didn't only play Imperial music, but both music from Morrowind, Valenwood, yes, even the Orcs and the Argonians could enjoy some tunes from home. No music piece was too strange for them, and no request too odd, but then again not many had any requests: they mostly played what they knew was wanted. An odd bunch, those bards.

Talindiil let her staff switch hand. The cold rain was still slowly soaking everything, and her right hand had been quite frozen from holding her staff the whole day. She silently reminded herself that she needed to buy some gloves as soon as possible.
Or maybe I'll just figure out a way to keep my staff fastened to my back, or something like that, she said silently, sliding deep into her thoughts again.

She had been traveling for several days now, from the Imperial City, where she'd been studying magic practices at the Arcane University for a couple of months. Alteration, Restoration and some Destruction as well, mostly. She had, of course, also learned basics about the other schools, but these three were her favorites. And as an Altmer, she was born to do this. Even more so, since her father was a somewhat renowned alchemist. He loved to sort plants and mix ingredients to create different kinds of potions. Never poisons though. Just as his daughter, Talindiils father tried to use his knowledge as little as possible for violent means.

Talindiil gazed up at the sky just as she cleared some trees. It was getting darker, no doubt about it. The clouds may had made it tougher to see exactly where the sun was, but it was definitely getting closer to sunset.
Let's just hope the inn is closer than I remember, she thought with a last glance at the sky. It's hard enough to see the road as it is, with all the mud and what-not.
With that in mind, she continued on with renewed speed.

Altmer + mage = win.

Is her dad Sinderion?

My dear Swede, you are about as deficient in writing English Prose as ABBA are as deficient in writing English Songs...

:lol:

...VERY good work so far! I shall await some more posts before a lengthier critique!

I'm not sure. He might be, but I don't think so. I haven't figured out his name yet though, so there is still room for interesting plot twists.


Wow, thanks!

I will hopefully get a new chapter/part up later today.

Before I say anything about your work let me just say that the chic in your avatar is very attractive. Consider me a fan of your avatar

Ok, let me start by saying I didn't read the whole thing. Sorry, but I just stumbled through the first paragraph and elected not to finish it. Like you said english is not your first language, and in my opinion it shows. Let me just try to show you how I would have done the first paragraph to make it less awkward.



It was raining on the land north of Lake Rumare. Perhaps not as much as it could have been, but the rain was still very persistent. The storm that had held the countryside in its grasp the day before had thankfully passed. Yet the rain was still there, as it had been for almost a week, refusing to let up. The landscape had become brown and bare. It was the last day of Frostfall, and just as rainy as always.

Now that was just fixing the minor stuff to make it easier to read, but if I really had my way with it I would do something more like this.

It was the last day of Frostfall, and rain was still falling on the land north of Lake Rumare. Having just yesterday escaped the grasp of a week long storm the landscape was looking brown and bare. Although this rain was perhaps less than was expected it was still very persistent seemingly refusing to let up.

Anyways I hope this has been atleast a little bit helpful. I didn't intend to offend only to help. Good luck with your future work!

This is really good, and interesting! It leaves you wanting to find out more!

I did have a somewhat hard time with the beginning, and converting Swedish grammar and phrases to English in my head is not always the easiest for me. Sometimes some of the Swedish grammar stays and the result get's... choppy. Lacking a certain rhythm, you might call it. Well, I'll try to improve. Practice makes perfect.

Oh, and by the way, I do like my avatar as well FYI it's Callisto from the TV series Xena, late season 4.

Pretty good story so far, I noticed some minor spelling mistakes but I don't feel like getting Nitty Gritty because no one likes a Nit Pick. Good story! I would enjoy reading the rest!