57. Fate of the Soul-Shriven

57. Fate of the Soul-Shriven

What cursed fate brought this poor wretch to Coldharbour?  Who was he before becoming this shell?  What stories could he have told that are now lost to the foul mists of Oblivion?  Was he a young man or old?  Was he a scholar, a soldier, a shopkeeper?  Was he a father, a brother, or both? Was he a genius or a fool?  A friend or an enemy?  Little do the incessant territorial disputes of Tamriel matter to him now.

For what it’s worth, I do not believe in a fate that is fixed however a man may act; but I do believe in a fate that is inevitable unless that man acts.

S.K

56. A fist-full of loyalty

56. A fist-full of loyalty

I’ve heard it said, most unkindly, that soldiers are not unlike dogs, in that our devotion and loyalty is often devoted chiefly to whomever puts food in our bowls.  Despite this misrepresentation, soldiers do tend to take matters of honour and loyalty very seriously indeed, often considering them to be far more important than any materialistic gain… or even a full stomach.

This Lyris, whilst perhaps not the brightest spark on the bonfire, has the kind of noble bearing that inspires sacrifice and loyalty from those around her.  And to a soldier, a fist-full of loyalty has more worth than a cart full of cleverness.

S.K

55. The nightmares of Coldharbour

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I have neither the education nor eloquence to adequately describe just how cold and harsh it is here.  Around every turn there is cruelty and unkindness, and around every corner I come face to face with the monsters of all my childhood nightmares. 

But I know these brutes of my nightmares are real… because real things you can break and shatter.

S.K