Stormhaven with a descended dolmen truly lives up to its name.
Mireukura-Rin went exploring Spellscar. It sure is pretty! Biter thinks so too!
Nestled in the depths of Graystone Quarry in Wrothgar is this Dwemer treasure, a sentinel of sorts that keeps the machines working to protect the ruins long after their masters are dead. Telenger and his bright ideas.
Near Daggerfall, Glenumbra sings of the sun, the dewy grass invigorating in its welcoming scent. Further north, however, near the old town of Aldcroft, a different scene emerges – dead trees tired of life, and air so thick with burdened anticipation you can see it with your eyes. A lone light shines in the dark, marking a path to safety.
It was only after the battle that I had time to look at the night sky where Masser and Secunda were, ensconced in their starry embrace. The smell of sea salt mingled with the blood of the Dreugh as their broodmother lay slain. I hadn’t noticed that the corals glowed.
The Argonians have such a rich creation story, and when that is tied so inextricably to the growth of the species, you know you’ve got something special – it ceases to be a myth. The Argonians live and breathe the Hist!
The two statues always seem to me that they are giving high-fives to one another. But that wasn’t what caught my eye this time. The purple-blue shades of the sky was so strangely incongruent with the sun shining down at me. I had to remind myself where I was – they didn’t call it Far Shores for nothing!
Every time I go to Stirk, and I’ve been there at least ten times, I almost always arrive at nearly but not always the same time – the magic hour just reaching its last tendrils over before the evening ends and night begins. The sun nears the horizon; night gathers above, bejeweled and waiting. I imagine that the sea breeze is balmy, and perhaps I can taste sorrow in the air – the Crimson Ship carried its burden hopeless into that endless Abecean Sea and were lost. Who mourns them?