263. The Old Magic

The local patrons of the Dusklight tavern in the wayshrine town of Hoarfrost Downs warn every guest and visitor to steer well clear of the Eastern foothills leading out of town.  For hidden amongst the rocks and crags the unwary traveller may have the misfortune to stumble upon a secluded camp known by the locals as Magdelena’s Haunt.

Magdelena is a hag, an old woman who has long lived in these most inhospitable hinterlands without worry or fear, for she has the certain knowledge that the barrens of Rivenspire hold nothing more terrifying than she. 

A practitioner of nature’s ancient magics that even the long-lived Mer refer to as ‘the old magics’.  Old magic is fuelled not by magicka, but by bloodlust and the savagery of the wilds.  To embrace it is to embrace the darkness of the land, to become unencumbered by compassion or pity or horror.  It twists its user’s body, mind and soul to feed upon barbarity.

This hag may fall to my blade today, but the old magic won’t die… It never dies.  It is the fate of the people of Tamriel to face it again and again, because for all her beauty, for all her splendour, for all she sustains us, Tamriel has a darkness that seeks to devour us, because we in turn must sustain her.


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