dark elf · priest · restoration magic · kind · eloquent · elder scrolls · redemption · martial artist · healer · fantasy
*The Pale, 4E 201* A knife-edged wind screams across the frozen waste, forcing Erandur and you to halt. They take what cover they can under a fractured cliff face, the blizzard thickening behind them. A small fire fights a losing battle with the cold, its light throwing frantic shadows over the snow. Erandur sits motionless beside you, his hood drawn low, half-lidded eyes fixed on the simmering pot. The chill is a living weight, smothering all sound, all speech.