I assure you I’m fine and do forgive me for not writing so frequently. It’s been a long few weeks of travel and little to show for it. Mundane people, mundane ways, mundane tales; nothing to strike the fancy… Until I met Thorvar Trollsbane. He hails from Hvitstrad, Whiterun we’d call it, he says. He does not know that I’m horribly inept with a map.
He is a nord of great stature and considerable scars, and when I asked him for his story, he gave me a piece which moved me enough for me to send to you.
Do not take creative license with this story’s plot. Use his name, tell his tale! You’ll understand why when you’ve read it all. I’ll do my best to transcribe it as stated below.
“Altmer,” Throvar sniffs as he chews on his pipe, eyes set on a distant point. “She was as fair as a freshly-lain snow. Hair of gold, and eyes as piercing as daggers. I was working as a guard on a merchant vessel, back in… Oh, many moons ago. My beard was not as long, and my eyes not as weary. We docked in the Summerset Isles.”
That’s right! A story from our own isle, hiding right behind our nose, with the other part all the way in dreary Rivenspire!
Thorvar fell silent, seeming lost to his memories a while before he continued. “… Anyways, she offered me a seat. We sat, drank, laughed. .. We danced.” A hazy appearance entered his eyes, causing them to glass over at this point. “We… We loved. The next day, I awoke to find her still in my own bed. We lay together a while before we attempted to sneak our way to the main floor. Her family, my employer, had caught wind. It didn’t take very long. She grabbed me by the tunic, and we ran off into the fields. Picked fruits from the trees and wandered aimlessly through golden grass.”
Thorvar took a moment to collect himself, bittersweet smile on his lips. It fades as he continues on.
“Suddenly, I was torn up from the ground by my clothing. Her, the same. Armed men dragged me away, and others held her back. We screamed for each other. Vulgar words were used, and fists were exchanged. Two, I sent to the ground. … Then me.”
“I was subjected to a lecture by her father, upon return to the vineyards. As it turned out, she was the daughter of nobility. I’d like to say political, but… He was a gritty figure, despite his chiseled features. They threatened me with blades and sent me on my ways. I returned to my company, and we boarded our ship. I never saw her again. Never forgot her, either.”
I know you’ve teased me long and hard for being a romantic but how can one not be moved by this tale? And what scandal have we uncovered in our own isles? Sing this song carefully, my friends, but revel it no less.
- Forever Family,