Uncharted Lands - Chapter 13
Going down a hill - or great big massive mountain, in this case - is supposed to be quicker than going up. But not for Yalanwen.
She takes her time descending the seven thousand steps. She pauses to chat with the pilgrims at the inscribed standing stones, and makes a point of tracking down and shooting the frost troll that chased her on the way up (a good thing, too, because it was clearly planning to make off with a poor terrified hunter in its teeth), and lingers to enjoy the view on every stone ledge, for as much as she can before the bitter icy air begins piercing her skin and creeping into her bones.
And when she finally makes it to Ivarstead, she is more than willing to take a long walk beneath the birch trees with the village's only Bosmer and talk about how Skyrim's climate differs from the humid, clammy summers and rainy winters of their homeland (thankfully, their conversation turns out quite lighthearted and leisurely, never growing more profound than discussing the weather
NorroenDyrd
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