The Nordess studied me briefly: a flick of green eyes, and then complete dismissal. My stomach rumbled loudly, but I ignored it and the question both. "Who are you?" the armored Nordess asked as the others rose from the floor and walked to the back of the hall. I resisted the urge to hunch, which was a habit I'd picked up recently when anyone took notice of me. The two brawlers had stopped in their tangle on the floor and were looking my way, which caused every Nord in the room to turn their head and stare me down. It covered less than I was used to for heavy armor, but it also looked very easy to move in, and that was what was important. Maybe, if I were able to settle in here, I’d be able to steal myself a similar set. I was distracted by her for a moment, and glanced between the woman's armor and my own charred furs from the dragon at Helgen. A Nordess in interesting armor cheered them on from the sidelines. Several Nords were eating at the tables around it, and behind them, two people were fighting: a Dunmer, and some human. There were three long tables flanking the largest fire-pit I’d ever seen. I had to pause and stop breathing in order to will my stomach to keep from growling.
#Skyrim revenge of the enemies full#
The main room was full of enough food to make my mouth water. I could hear shouting even before I opened the door, so I braced myself for chaos. So I straightened my back, bared my teeth to steel myself, and walked across the courtyard and up the steps toward Jorrvaskr. Without it, I would just be some foreign elf, in a time where being a mer at all could be dangerous. But I’d been told that the fighters beyond the door in front of me were well-respected all across Skyrim, and I knew that I would need that respect to survive. I had no way of keeping the people of the city from looking at me like an animal. It was a good thing that the wind was growing sharper to goad me on as the sun began to dim. But walking up and grasping the door handle always felt like an impossible task in the seconds before it happened. I should be used to it, for as long as I’d been away from home. This wasn't the first time I’d sought shelter in a wooden building.
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This was a place that bent Bosmeri and broke Pacts. And since coming to Skyrim, I expected to find no more. Since fleeing Valenwood, I’d found few places where my deity dwelled. This was not a place where Y'ffre held sway, though the emptiness this thought brought me was familiar. The wind kicked up, and I shivered again, closing my eyes tightly against the chill. Even the tree at my back was dead, as though she’d no longer had the heart to thrive and seek sun while every other one of her kind was sacrificed to the axe. I could smell death on the breeze, and hear it in the creak of every door and bridge around me.
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I shivered and pulled my furs closer against my skin, putting my back to the tall tree behind me as I stared at the oddly-shaped building at my front.