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For Skyrim and the Nine

In early days, I would scrounge gold coins and battered armour from the shrines I would find around Skyrim. It felt wrong but needs must. Just now I came across a shrine to Talos, perched high above Arcwind Pass on a path leading nowhere looking down on nothing in particular. It was just there, where the designers had placed it, as part of the landscape, the home of the Nords. Without realizing what I was doing, I searched my inventory and dropped a potion in offering. It fell there, joining scattered coins and battered armour and I realized my chest was tightening and my eyes misting over. One hundred and sixty hours in Skyrim and at last I know what I have to do.

Posted by Ghost of a flea at January 4, 2012 10:09 AM