Fandom Skyrim-The college of Winterhold

[Green Dragon]

Held in the province of Skyrim, we are based mainly in the college of winterhold: a powerful school dedicated to the study and teaching of magic. The school holds much more power and importance in this setting than it ever did in game, including the investigation and advisement on all matters of the arcane. My next post will open the RP. Severinus

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr ruffled his nose against the chill, pulling his hood closer to his face. He must have been one of the few nords who hated the cold, and these school robes weren't as warm as he'd like. He felt so exposed without his armour.

"Ah, Styrr, are you still with us? This part is important", the voice of Tolfdir, his instructor, woke him from his thoughts.

"Yes, I'm still here", he grumbled, wondering why they had to do this in the cold. He was 20 years old, his arcane tendencies having shown up during his service in the legion. He was the oldest one in the zero levels; magic normally appeared during puberty, after all.

Tolfdir went on with his lecture. They were up on the roof of the college, the kind teacher deciding the first lesson would be best suited up there. The wind was terrible. Styrr looked around at his fellow students: mostly human children, with a few elves, and one very energetic Khajiit. Styrr just wanted to finish the zero levels-the bare minimum for any mage, focusing on the restrain and control of arcane abilities-and get back to his service in the legion. The war wasn't over, after all.

Tolfdir wanted the students to pair up for the next exercise. Styrr looked around, most of the others having paired up with friends or such. Styrr felt like a stranger among children. Perhaps he could pair with the teacher...

 

[Severinus]

The wind up on the College's roof was even colder than down int the courtyard, although Raksharr would not have believed it, before making the experience himself. "This one doesn't like the cold", the young Khajit meowed softly to himself, as he pressed his arms closer around his body. These robes they had given him were a little warmer than the ragged clothes he had had before, but still did not help against the cold. There must be spells against the cold and he would learn them as quickly as possible, Raksharr vowed to himself.

As he heard Master Tolfdir's gentle, yet strict voice scold: "Are you still with us? This part is important", the young catfolk had first thought that it had been directed to him, but a young Nord answered instead. This one the Khajit had not seen before in the novice lessons, although it was only his second day of lessons. Curiously, he looked at the blue tattoo and several scars from fights on his bearded face. This Nord was definitely older than most of the students on Novice levels who were usually at the beginning of puberty.

While Raksharr's eyes went from one of his fellow students to the next, he kept constantly moving around, jumping a little and stepping from one foot to the other, to keep himself warm in spite of the cold wind. Tolfdir's lecture was interesting, but not interesting enough that he could not take a good look at the others studying with them. Another of the students did so as well, a young and handsome looking elf. But as soon as his steel blue eyes met with Raksharr's amber ones, their expression turned icy cold and the Aldmer's lips curled in disdain. While the young Khajit stared back in confusion, Tolfdir announced that they should begin with an exercise.

Raksharr was immediately excited at the perspective of trying something out himself instead of just listening to a lot of words. However, the elvish students immediately paired up among their own kind and so did most of the humans who had been here longer than the Khajit. Apparently, the only one left was the new blue-faced one. Eagerly, the young Khajit approached the Nord who stood more than two heads taller than the young teenager in his slightly crouched natural stance. "Raksharr is happy to practice with you", he purred cheerfully and bared his fangs in a friendly smile. "Who are you? I've never seen you before."

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr looked up at the sound of a voice, and then down as he remembered he was the tallest one there. A young cat had approached him, offering to pair up. He shrugged: better than standing there awkwardly.

"I'm Styrr", he said, his dark eyes examining the young Khajiit. The cat was practically bouncing on his feet, the energy of youth strong within him. Styrr missed that energy: he was only 20, but the cruelty of the civil war had already left its mark on him. Styrr had just registered the cat's name when Tolfdir spoke again.

"Our world is full of energy, and it comes in many forms, many motions. Air, fire, shock, even water; all of these are merely different expressions of energy, and magic is a conduit for energy. This very fact is why uncontrolled magic is dangerous, both to the mage and others around them, and why this Zero-Level class is necessary", he said.

"Now, an exercise. I'm sure you all noticed the wind up here? Of course, it's not hard to miss. Now, stand in front of your partner, with enough distance that both of you can stretch your arms forward without touching. What you are about to learn is know as suppression; the ability to damper energy with focus. For this lesson, you will dampen eachothers energy. However, the same concept applied to oneself is quite effective to control your own", he continued.

Styrr sighed, getting into position as described. They were then instructed for one of them to focus their energy, pulling the wind towards them, while the other focused to dampen the wind the first had collected. Styrr had no idea how to manipulate the wind, or any of his magic at will. He looked at the cat awkwardly.

"How about you play with the wind first?", he offered, trying to sound more confident than he was.

 

[Severinus]

The tall Nord introduced himself as Styrr and Raksharr purred quietly in response. He definitely like this name with a nicely rolling "r" at the end, like his own. With curious big eyes the Khajit glanced up at the young man whose shoulders looked slumped and slightly dejected. Maybe he was feeling just as cold as Raksharr thought the youngster and moved a little more to get warmer.

Tolfdir introduced them to the elements and their connection with magical energies and Raksharr had pricked up his ears, while he listened intently. As he heard that their exercise would be to pull the cold wind towards them, he hissed in slight annoyance. As if he wasn't feeling cold enough already! The older student however pushed him with the words: "How about you play with the wind first?"

Raksharr would stand proud and not fail the trust they had offered him. If he could not do this properly, he might be cast out on the cold and snowy streets of Winterhold again without a family or perspective for his life. Determination showed on the lynx-like features of the young Khajit, as he concentrated hard on the flow of the wind. Before paying as close attention as he did now, it had felt like the wind came from every direction at once. But now the Khajit could feel that it came from the northeast and felt less strong in the opposite direction of southwest. Maybe this was what Master Tolfdir meant, when he spoke about energy? he wondered.

Now that he had an idea from where the wind came, he imagined he was pulling it toward him and did not let it escape to the southwest. Within a few moments something like a small blizzard seemed to rush around him whirling snow flakes in front of his face and entire body. "Watch out! You are pulling stronger with your magic than you think!", Tolfdir advised gently. Raksharr felt confused and mesmerized at the same time by the dancing snowflakes, but followed the teacher's instruction and let go of the wind a little, so that it could escape again toward the southwest. With curious eyes he tried to to discern Styrr's figure which became more clearly visible again as the blizzard effect became less pronounced.

 

[Green Dragon]

The cat closed his eyes, focusing on his task. Styrr crossed his arms, just wanting this to be over with. He felt the wind become more intense, as if it wasn't cold enough! He delt with it, working on his part until he heard Tolfdir shout. The wind was getting out of control. It wasn't quite dangerous yet, but Styrr found himself annoyed at the wind, glaring at the near tornado forming around the cat until it suddenly dissipated.

"Well, I was going to intervene, but it seems you've figured out supression quite well Styrr", Tolfdir said, smiling at the pair kindly. Styrr blinked, turning his focus away from the cat.

"Uh, thanks, I guess", he said awkwardly. Due to the teachers demeanor, Styrr guessed this was not a rare occurrence.

"Don't worry Raksharr, no harm done, that's the very reason you are in this class after all. Now, why don't you two switch roles and go again?", he said.

"I'm not sure that's necessary...", Styrr protested, but Tolfdir cut him off.

"Of course it's necessary! You both must learn to pull at energy, and you both must learn to push it away. If you are worried you'll lose control, I will be right here", the older Nord said. Styrr grunted in defeat.

"Fine", was all he muttered, crossing his arms and closing his eyes in concentration. He was a Nord, and superstitious about magic like many others, but that didn't mean he wasn't taking this seriously-moreso, even. He knew why this was important. He wasn't afraid he would lose control, rather, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pull the wind at all. The embarrasment from how he learned of his abilities still ripe in his mind.

He stood there, focusing. It didn't come immediately, it took a few minutes, Tolfdir muttering words of encouragement and advice every minute or so. Then, it picked up slowly, he got a small collection of wind twirling around him. Not nearly as intense as the cat's-it wad like a light summer breeze, except that it was freezing. He ruffled his nose, holding onto it the best he could, waiting for Raksharr to finish the exercise.

 

[Severinus]

Raksharr felt another force working against his pulling at the wind. His first instinct was to resist and push back harder, but then he remembered the blizzard and how things had gotten almost out of his hands. The tall Nord Styrr pushed harder against his collected wind, as he was supposed to do in their exercise and Raksharr paid close attention to how this felt, as he would have to work against the other's wind energy soon.

As Tolfdir complimented their attempts, Raksharr purred feeling slightly ashamed at his loss of control. He would have to pay more attention. Also he did not want to harm Styrr, if he did something wrong in the exercise. The Nord was still debating with Tolfdir, whether he really needed to do this, but Tolfdir insisted. It was easier to suppress the wind on this tower than persuade him to dodge an exercise.

Expectantly, the young Khajit eyed the taller Nord man, as he closed his eyes, but nothing happened. Tolfdir was giving advice like "Don't try too hard or you will block yourself!", while Raksharr's attention was beginning to drift away, as his eyes caught sight of a shadow in the sky far above the mountain ridge in the distance. A dragon?! Raksharr was not sure, if he really saw such a creature like the one which had murdered his family mere weeks ago. But the fur of his neck was standing all the same, as the memories of the dragon fire and icy water and his first really surge of magical skill resurfaced.

Tolfdir's words "Feel the wind and pull it towards you! Yes, just like this, Styrr!" drew his thoughts back to the situation at hand. With a conscious effort the Khajit shoved the thoughts of the dragon and his past aside and closed his eyes to better focus his concentration on the sound and feel of the wind without being distracted. His ears picked up the change in the winds speed nearby and he could almost sense something happening. Imagining how nice it would feel up here without the cutting wind, Raksharr concentrated on opposing the force of the wind which Styrr was pulling towards him. At first he pushed gently, until he felt the opposing force growing in strength and energy and increased his own energy in opposing it.

"Excellent, Styrr and Raksharr!", Tolfdir lauded, before warning them: "This will be quite enough for today! Don't overdo it!" When they finally seized the exercise, Raksharr was panting slightly from the exhausting exercise. Still he beamed happily a Styrr and purred: "We are a rreally good team! Raksharr will enjoy worrking with you in the futurre!"

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr felt the winds dissipate against his hold. He didn't fight it; he was ready for the day to end. Tolfdir complimented them, and let them have a break while he went on to encourage the other students. Styrr heard Raksharr speak.

"Yeah, you too", he said, still mildly annoyed. He was good at hiding his annoyance, had to be in the legion. He had nothing against the cat, he was just frustrated with the cold, and how long it took him to catch on. A little while later, Tolfdir was ending the class.

"It was great teaching you today, and I look forward to teaching you over the next 6 months. I hope some of you consider entering the novice level classes once this class is over, skyrim always needs more healers, scholars, and arcane experts of all kinds. Anyway, that's all for today. You may go-except Styrr, if I might have a moment", he said. Styrr walked up to the kind wizard as the other students began trickling down the stairs to get off the roof.

"Yes?", Styrr said. Tolfdir smiled.

"Now now, no need to look like that, you're not in trouble. It is my understand you just arrived not even an hour ago, and have been shoved into my class, is that right?".

"Yeah, thats about how that went", Styrr said, shrugging.

"Ah, well then you best get to Mirabelle and go about getting a room. With all the students here, you will have a roommate. They will be a fellow zero-level student, so they will be much younger than you. I hope you aren't uncomfortable with that", Tolfdir said. Styrr shook his head.

"I'm sure I've had worse roommates during my service. I'll go see her, then", he said. Tolfdir bid him farewell, as Styrr went off to find the Dean of Students.

 

[Severinus]

When Tolfdir spoke about their training to come and becoming healers, scholars or arcanists, Raksharr was stepping from one foot the other, not just from the cold, but also from excitement. The possibility to learn about all the mysterious things he had heard many a campfire story about was like a dream coming true. When he heard that his new friend Styrr - his friend in his eyes, as he was the only student he met in the past two days who not either ignored or insulted him immediately - was supposed to stay behind, the Khajit pricked up his ears. What was going on? Torn between his insatiable curiosity and the wish not to draw too much attention to himself which might get him kicked out again, he chose the sly path of the Khajit.

Walking slowly until all the other students surpassed him, he moved out of sight and dodged behind the stair railing. Hidden from Tolfdir's and Styrr sight, he could still listen in on the conversation, although the wind made it difficult to hear more than parts of the sentences. But his ears picked up that he had arrived only very recently and should see Mirabelle. Raksharr purred softly, when he heard her name. He definitely liked the strict woman, as she had been fairly friendly to him and smelled wonderfully of spices and potion ingredients. Then there was something about younger students and roommates which he could not quite understand, as the wind blew stronger again.

When Styrr turned towards the stairs, Raksharr hurried to move downwards a little, but he could by no means be fast enough to avoid being seen, when the Nord arrived at the top of the stairs. "I was worried for you", Raksharr tried to smile and look innocent, when he gave his explanation, in case Styrr was angry that the Khajit was sneaking around and spying on him. It was true after all. "I can take you to Master Mirrabelle, if you like", he offered quickly to appease the older student and purred the name of his liked teacher. With a puppy eyed glance up at Styrr, the Khajit waved in his direction. "Come with Raksharr! I know the quickest way out of the cold to her."

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr stopped at the beginning of the stairs, staring at the sneaky Khajiit. He rose an eyebrow as the cat gave excuses, and offered to take him to the Dean. He shrugged, and motioned for him to lead the way. He wasn't too bothered.

He followed him into the main hall, where the Breton woman was just leaving her classroom. She looked up as the pair approached her.

"Oh, hello again Styrr. I take it Tolfdir has finished his lesson as well?", she said.

"Yeah, he wanted me to see you about getting room and board", he said. Mirabelle walked over to a desk in the reception area, motioning for him to follow. She took out a book and flipped through it.

"We have a few students without roommates. Raksharr, Firadin, Fjord, Threto...do you have a preference?", she asked.

"Not really. You kept my equipment safe?", he said. When he met her earlier, she had forced him into school robes, and took his armour and axe away. She nodded.

"Of course, I have it in this chest here. Once we have your room decided, you can take it with you there", she said.

 

[Severinus]

It must have been ages since he had felt so warm. Raksharr felt immense relief as soon as they entered the main building, where he had overheard that Master Mirabelle taught lessons at this time of the day. As if to prove him right, she came out of her classroom and greeted Styrr. Standing a little aside, as this conversation originally did not involve him, the Khajit still listened intently.

When he heard his name mentioned as an option for sharing a room with, the Khajit immediately pricked up his ears. "Raksharr can offer to share his room with Styrr, Masterr Mirrabelle!", he purred in a friendly voice towards Mirabelle. "I can show you the room and the way there", he offered also in Styrr's direction. Even though he had just arrived yesterday, his curiosity had driven him to explore the whole building complex immediately. So the Khajit knew his way around the main buildings and most relevant rooms by now.

Mirabelle nodded her consent. "Since you have no preferences, going with Raksharr here will really be the best option." In a slightly softer tone she asked the Khajit: "You still remember the main rooms from yesterday's tour I suppose. Lead him around then and show him the room!" Raksharr nodded eagerly. "Of course, this one remembers the ways Master Mirrabelle has explained. Raksharr will take good care of Styrr."

The Khajit waited until Styrr had picked up his belongings and whether he had still things to discuss with Mirabelle, before beaming at him eagerly and announcing: "Raksharr knows his ways around. I will show you everything!" Keenly he turned towards the entry of the Hall of Elements and repeated what Mirabelle had told about it yesterday adding eagerly: "This is where the real mages practice. We will be there soon!" Pointing to the stairs upwards."Up there is the Arc... Arcanaeum", he struggled a bit with the unfamiliar word. "It's the magical library."

Hurrying off with an expression as if he had bitten on something bitter, he looked at the door warily. "We have to go through the courtyard to get to the Hall of Attainment where the student's sleep." Finally, he had braced himself enough for another onslaught of the cold and opened the door. "Follow Raksharr!"

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr remained quiet as it was decided he would room with Raksharr. He supposed he couldn't escape the eager boy either way, the students living in the same tower and all. He gathered his stuff-his imperial heavy armour, and his steel battleaxe-and shoved it in a leather duffle bag. He followed the cat as he eagerly led him on a tour.

Styrr nodded, as they both readied to go out into the cold again. Before long, they were in the dorms. Theirs was on the first level. All the rooms were the same: bunk beds, two desks, two chests, two wardrobes, and a cooking spit. It was obvious Raksharr had taken one bed already, so Styrr went ahead and claimed the other one, sitting down and shuffling through his bag.

"I know I have it in here somewhere...", he said, furrowing his brows in frustration. He always lost stuff in this bag.

"Ah", he pulled out an envelope, opening it. It was the last letter his fathers wrote him before he left the legion to head for winterhold. He decided he could unpack later, and began reading it. He almost forgot about his new roommate entirely: he'd been waiting days to read this letter. Between travel and being pushed right into class, he hadn't had time.

 

[Severinus]

His new roommate took the bed closer to the cold floor which Raksharr had avoided, as it was the colder of the two beds. But the Nord could bear the cold easier than the Khajit he thought, as he sat down on his own bed with great relief. Climbing up was definitely worth it.

As Styrr shuffled through his belongings and muttered to himself, the curious cat peeked down. Oh, a letter. Squinting his eyes, Raksharr tried to read the letters, but could not make them out, as his position above the other was extremely unpractical for reading along. Also, he felt a pang of guilt at his curiosity for snooping into things which were not his affair. Yet, he still was curious about his new roommate with whom he would spend at least a few months on very little space.

Finally, Raksharr's curiosity got the better of him and he asked: "Is this from your family?" Without realizing it immediately, his big amber eyes filled with tears, as the hurt and sorrow over the loss of his own family resurfaced. Sniffling softly, he looked away from the young man and tried to get his emotions back under control with limited success.

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr didn't notice Raksharr sneaking, he was too focused reading. His parents had some...interesting news.

He had just finished reading the letter, taking it in, and was standing to put his things away. It wasn't hard to figure out which drawer and desk were his. That wouldn't do for his armour though, he'd eventually have to build or get a rack for that.

"Yeah, it is-are you okay?", he looked at the Khajiit, the sounds of sobbing breaking his thoughts.

 

[Severinus]

Sniffing softly, Raksharr gnawed at his lower muzzle. " 'm fine", the Khajit meowed and glanced away to not let his tears show so obviously. "Have you ever seen a dragon?", he then asked Styrr eagerly, while looking wary.

Not really intending to listen to the answer, as he was far too distracted by his memory, Raksharr murmured: "I saw one a few weeks ago." He shuddered in spite of not being cold anymore. "Those huge claws and the giant head and the fire, the heat." Sobbing in earnest, he whispered almost imperceptibly: "They're all dead."

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr didn't know how to react. Sure, he had heard of the return of the dragons, but hd hadn't seen one himself. He looked away, trying to find the right words. He never was great with other people's emotions. Not that he didn't care, he just had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"That's rough. I...I'm sorry", he said. He sat back down, rubbing his head. What do you say to someone who's just lost their whole family in one go?

"I don't know where your people go when they die...but wherever they are, I'm sure they're looking out for you. They're probably happy you made it to safety, that you're carrying their memory with you", he said. He sat in silence, not sure whether he should expect a response or not. He took his armour out of his bag and just laid it on his desk, along with his axe. It took him only a few minutes to put away the rest of his belongings; soldiers learned quickly to travel light. He opened the cupboard, examing their food stock.

"You hungry?", he asked, examing sac of tomatoes and a large chunk of venison, "I could get a stew going".

 

[Severinus]

Raksharr pricked up his ears and listened intently to Styrr's words. They were not coddling, but a comfort because of their simplicity devoid of pity. As the Nord spoke of them watching him now, his clawed hands grasped the amulet around his neck which had been hidden under his robe before - the amulet of the twin moons. His thoughts strolled to the happy times at the camp fires and the stories told there of the heroes of Elsweir and the gods and goddesses of the Khajit watching over their chosen ones.

At the mentioning of a stew, the cat's belly started rumbling and he finally turned to face Styrr. "Stew sounds nice", he purred, before he continued with his previous eagerness. "Raksharr can tell you a story of the twin moons and where the Khajit heroes go after death." He could almost see his father's smile, when he used to tell this story and still heard his intonation in his memory. Passing on the stories they had told, was a good way of keeping them alive in his memory. "So let me tell you about the Twin moons...", he started in the intonation of a story teller, while turning to help with the preparation of their food.

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr grunted, taking out potatoes and chopping them up with practiced movements.

"Go on, then", he said. He heard of the twin moons, but he had no idea what importance they held. It didn't take him long to have all the potatoes, carrots, leeks, and garlic chopped up. He deboned the venison, adding the bones to the boiling pot if water to make a broth while he cut the venison into small cubes.

"Hm, I might have too much chopped up...I'm too used to cooking for legion units", he mumbled mostly to himself. In the legion, the units were on their own once they left the barracks for any mission: they didn't have a chef. The soldiers took turns cooking, Styrr having cooked more than the others in his unit do to his experience with food. He never minded it; it saved him from guard duty, and he had always enjoyed cooking with his pa.

 

[Severinus]

The joy of story telling guided Raksharr's mind away from the horrors of the dragon attack. Styrr was a patient listener which helped to relax the young distressed Khajit. His mouth watered, as he watched the venison being cut into pieces. When Styrr turned to add some of it to the pot, Raksharr quickly nicked a small piece of meat and let it disappear in his mouth, raw as it was.

Trying not to look guilty, the cat youth pricked up his ears at the mention of the legion. Having traveled through several parts of the Empire, Raksharr was familiar with the Imperial legion and its duty as the Emperor's prolonged arm in the provinces. Curiously he asked his new friend: "You were in the legion? What was it like? Did you fight against trolls or wraiths?" The creatures of legends came to his mind first, before any actual humanoid enemy.

 

[Green Dragon]

Styrr put the vegetables in the pot with the rest, and put the lid on it to cook. He crossed his arms, thinking about how to answer that question. He didn't mean to let that slip: he learned quickly to hide his affiliation with the legion. People either became rude, or even downright violent, if he happened to tell a stormcloak supporter-or they asked a million questions, like he guessed Raksharr would. Oh well, it was better than the alternative.

"A few wolves, a bear every now and then, and one time a mammoth that wandered into our path. Mostly, though, stormcloak rebels. I was infantry, so I went in with raids and skirmishes against stormcloak forts or supply wagons, mostly", he said. He was surprised to find during one raid that the stormcloaks had some mages. Surprising, since they are all nord traditionalists. That particular raid still gives him nightmares...he decided to stop thinking about that.

"I was only a corporal. My service so far has been brief", he said, turning to stirr the pot. He took out some bread, and set it on the side of the heating stone currently heating the pot, abd shredded some cheese over it. That'd make some decent toasted cheese bread to mop up the broth with.

 

[Severinus]

Wide eyed and with no little amount of admiration, listened to the tales about hunting down a mammoth. Wolves and bears were nuisances and dangers the Khajit travelers were familiar with and had their guards with them to kill a few and drive off the rest. A pack horse and draught horse killed at the wrong time in the middle of the wilderness could mean the death of a wandering clan after all.

The stormcloaks were a term, he had heard before and met some of them, but had no real concept of their notions except that they were something like a band of rebels against the Empire. There were Nords fighting other Nords and Imperial troops, because they wanted different people in the position of power. That was nothing truly concerning Khajiti gypsies who did not care about who was in power, as long as they could continue their travels in relative safety and peace. As the Khajits had no real affiliation in this war and traded with anyone who treated them fairly, they had sold supplies to stormcloaks at some times and performed in front of the legion's soldiers at other times.

At the mentioning of raids against supply wagons, he grimaced a little. Being obviously Khajits, the legion had never mistaken them for stormcloaks, neither had the stormcloaks ever mistaken them for legion provision suppliers and thus they had been left in peace. At some times, the wily Khajits at come across the remains of such skirmishes, prayed to the twin moons to protect them from the wrath of the dead, before scavenging whatever might still be usable and resold in some other place. The smell and sight of the corpses or maimed body parts still left a feeling of dread and horror in his memories and Raksharr did not want to know what is was like to be there in the moment of those people's death. In spite of all his curiosity, those memories kept him from asking any more questions regarding the topic and made him look more contemplating and brooding than before, but without the personal affection he had shown at the mention of a family. Styrr did not seem to mind terribly that he was not bombarded with questions.

Sitting down at the table, he took in the smell of the venison refined by the herbs and vegetable broth. "You really cook nicely", the Khajit meowed with a friendly smile, as his stomach rumbled loudly again. But then, he looked at Styrr very seriously and asked with a tinge of worry in his voice: "Do you want to go back to the legion?" While he waited for the answer, worried amber eyes traced the lines of tattoos and scars above them on the Nord's face.

 

[Green Dragon]

"Thanks", he said awkwardly. He never was good with compliments. To his surprise, Raksharr did not ask anymore questions about his service. The stew was almost done; he mixed in some salt and put the lid back on. It would only be a few more minutes. Then the cat asked if he wanted to go back to the legion. For some reason, he hadn't expected that question.

"Yeah, that's the plan. I just have to get control of my magic first, then they'll take me back", he said. He sat down, pulling off his boots, "after all, the war isn't over". He hated the stormcloaks; they were the reason his biological parents were killed. His adopted dad was an elf, and they'd have him leave skyrim just for existing! Naturally, that didn't breed any love for the rebels in this nord's eyes.