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A Bulwark in the Storm Part 1


Not all feared the wilds these days, one such adventurer by the name of Kojlour Path-Boot dared the wilds of Skyrim. It was early morning Morndas when the hunter awoke. Crawling out of his bedroll, Kojlour fumbled his backpack for the fine bottle of emerald mead. Gusts of cool late Frostfall snow drifted amongst the pines that dotted the shores and banks of the White River as he packet his tent. The whiff of camp smoke nearby caught his attention. Stalking gracefully amidst the forest he neared the the source, the derelict mine of Embershard.

“I told you it was a foolish mistake!” exclaimed a mangy Orc from across a clearing near the door.

“ Be reasonable Naorgroto, well just bring the package back to Solitude.” responded a pale Breton next to the Naorgroto. “Besides were leaving right now.” assured the wizard.

The trapper waited until the figures left, before entering the mine. Damp and menacing wisp of smoke clouded the abandoned halls and shafts as he ventured on wards in the gloom. “Now what were they searching for in this Talos cursed pit!” Thought Kojlour as he rounded a turn “By Ysmir if this foul place goes any deeper Ill- his heart froze as he gazed on the corpses of refugees. There in a center shaft lay the remains of a dozen exiles. “Trolls blood!” cursed Kujlour, as he examined the body’s, there was no sign of infection just a lot of arrows.

-To be Continued--Lord Burnch-