Once again, we have more beautiful art. At this point, I feel I must crown IrisSeptim the official Portrait Artist of House Sigeweald. Thank you so much!!! I believe this one shall hang in the entry way of her grand estate (you know, if she ever gets to move out of Breezehome). Continue reading
Mr. Elspeth and I are watching Elder Scrolls videos on Youtube and one for Morrowind came up.
Mr. Elspeth: “When I first bought this game I stayed up until 5 in the morning playing.”
Me: “I actually remember that. I remember thinking what kind of game could possibly keep someone up all night long.”
It was a more innocent time then, for some of us….
It was true what they said, Solstheim didn’t have weather, just ash. The women pulled their scarves tighter around their faces as they trudged toward the fort. The lulls in the storms were long enough to gain some momentum, but when the winds blew, the ash whipped around them, settling into the cracks and creases in their clothing and skin. It was terribly unpleasant and Evangeline was beginning to regret pushing them to go to the Fort. Continue reading
Or keeping up with writing challenges. Those challenges were fun, I must say, and the short bursts of writing were making it easier to get into a writing mood. The problem is that, instead of anything I should be working on right now, I am feeling inspired to write the following: Continue reading
The walk from Ilinalta’s Deep back to Riverwood was the worst yet. The fight in the dungeon had taken so much out of them. And after something only sort of vaguely resembling sleep on the bedrolls that had belonged to the necromancer’s they’d killed, they were determined to get back to the Sleeping Giant Inn, where Trygve promised they would stay for one full night. She knew he didn’t want to, that he would keep pushing himself, stealing only bits and pieces of sleep here and there. Continue reading