I woke up in a pool of my own sweat, the distant sound of a
bard singing some song about a Redguard man. I quickly gathered my things; the
items I had stolen from those poor guys I’d ruthlessly murdered with an
uncontrollable power. I quickly left the inn without a word to anybody.
I had enough guilt burdening my mind to ignore a promise I
had made to Farengar the night before. I duly entered the apothecary and
approached the woman at the encounter. I explained I had agreed to deliver some
Frost Salts for Farengar. The woman gave me three potions in return, and then
explained that she was trying to make a love potion and passively suggested to
herself that she would try it out on Farengar. Detecting a hint of romanticism
and feeling that I may be intruding upon the apothecarist’s internal ramblings I
left without a word
I made for the city gates and heard a few guards assembling
to aid Riverwood in its defence against the almost certain dragon attack. I
quickly realised that I has no idea where the Mage
College is, other than it’s at a
city called Winterhold. In an attempt to dodge any unnecessary interrogation, I
decided that I’d take a cart to the city rather than ask for directions. I
headed off to Whiterun stables and asked the carman to take me to Winterhold. I
paid him the fee of 50 gold, and jumped on the back of the cart.
The journey was a pretty uneventful one, to the point where
I’m sure I had blacked out for most of it. I arrived at the outskirts of
Winterhold, enveloped in a thick whit-out blizzard. I could barely make out the
college, but in my haste to find out who I am or what I’m doing in the land
of Skyrim, I rushed past a few
small buildings and headed towards a stone bridge.
I was halted by a woman who initially refused to allow me to
cross the bridge. She explained that the college had gathered somewhat of a bad
reputation recently and was under threat from the Nords of Skyrim. In an
attempt to secure their defence, nobody is to be let into the college unless
they prove their intentions are wholly good. I didn’t feel like explaining my
situation openly with this stranger, who eventually introduced herself as
Faralda, so thought it best to explain that I wanted to develop my skills in
magic (which was partly true; I definitely want to be able to control the
volcanic eruption from my hands.) Unfortunately she threw a curveball back at
me and asked what I intended to do with my magic. Not knowing much about the ‘art’
I quickly answered that I intended to practice my skills of destruction. She
agreed that the college has the means to help me but explained I would need to
pass a test that would prove my abilities as a mage.
She begun to teach me a new spell, on that could heal. This was
such a relief, I’m not only able to destroy with my hands, but I can also
repair. I didn’t feel like missing this opportunity, so I listened intently as
she explained how to focus my mind on the process of healing and how the
ultimate power comes from the soul and its will to aid. I focused all my might
and attempted to focus this new learned skill at Faralda. I was worried I’d
burn her alive, but instead of a blinding red flame; a calm, soothing white
glow crept from my hands and enveloped my teacher. She seemed pleased and led
me across the bridge to the college. She told me to find Mirabelle and returned
to her post at the mouth of the bridge.
As I pushed open the large heavy doors into the college
grounds I was taken back by the sheer size of the place. The blizzard had
previously sheltered the college from view preventing me from fully realising
how big this place was. I was sure I’d be looking all day for Mirabelle, but I
found her in the courtyard talking to an elf. They were having a heated
discussion, which I didn’t intend to disrupt. I waited for their discussion to
be over and introduced myself.
Mirabelle gave me a short tour of the college and showed me
to my dormitory. She explained that some students had already started a lesson
with a teacher known as Tolfdir and that I should make my way there
immediately. I obliged and found a small gathering of 4 students complaining to
their tutor. I was quickly dragged into the debate and was quickly made to
voice my opinions on the sensibility of participating in practical magic
lessons.
Without hesitation I agreed with the other students that
practical lessons were a must; if I could learn more moral spells maybe I could
one day repent for the bad choices I had previously made.
Tolfdir taught us a spell that would ward off offensive
attacks. We practiced this for a while and retired to our rooms for the
evening. I’m sitting on my bed; much more comfortable than the one at the inn I
had slept in the night before. I think I had best get rest, tomorrow I’m going
to need some answers and I feel I might pick some more knowledge up on the way.
At some point I must also find this Dragonstone; having spoken
to the Jarl of Whiterun himself, I feel somewhat obliged to assist his magical
assistant.
