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Introduction to Velwryiin
Oct. 30th, 2024 04:59 pmAmong the freshly fallen snow, tall elk raise their children, and wolves stalk the cattle, waiting for a single calf to stray away. One lone sunset toned elf sat atop a hill, watching the creatures roam the land. The bitter cold of Skyrim was no feat that the bosmer of Valenwood had experienced. The entirety of this land was something Velwryiin had never experienced. The mer, the men, the mountainous creatures that roamed the land; it seemed every place the young bosmers adventures took him was the wrong place.
The only thing that spoke the same words from his home land was the vegetation, which would grow despite it all.
The tufts of fur on the mer’s skin seemed to grow thicker as it got colder in the land of Skyrim. Snow speckled on his slender face, and as his tail swiveled from left to right, the freezing air followed. He lie low in the sleet, making a dent with every little moment. The white powder towered over him, almost acting as the tall grass did in Valenwood.
At least if it was long grass, he would know how to interact with it. He was slowly learning how to contact with the snow as a friend, rather than an opposing foe. Thankfully, he had caught on fairly quickly that the blizzards of Skyrim were unsuited for typical Valenwood clothing, but could make quick use of the thick hides of the beasts here.
Mammoths had thick and large hides which could be used to cloth an entire village of cold Nords. Unfortunately it was no easy task to take down one of these large beasts, Velwryiin had noted the giant beings which followed the beasts like they were their domesticated pets. From the times the elf had come across one of these Giants, it didn’t seem too bothered until coming closer. A hit from their wooden tools would be the demise of such a small elf, and dare he say a dishonorable way to die.
As Velwryiin ventured the land, he made notes in a booklet made from the pelt of a skinned goat. Despite being in a new environment, his vow to Y’ffre stayed the same. Making note of cultural differences, and differences with habitat, the elf learned this land quickly. He may have adapted to the ways of the outside world, but men were something he couldn’t wrap his head around.
They dwelled in great big hoards of rocks, hoarding people, objects and treasures inside. It is no wonder why the people inside the stone walls go mad, and kill one another. Velwryiin had no use to go into the walls of cities.The rich habits of men were not something that the wood elf could swallow wholly. He couldn’t wrap his head around the wood elves which lived peacefully among these men. Have they no care for the devotion of Y’ffre? Velwryiin had nothing in common with these Falsehood Elves. They lived in their wood carved homes, and burned the very land which gave them life.
But if not with the men, and not with the mer within the city walls, where?
Velwryiin had heard tales of the huntsman Hircine, who sheltered the bravest of hunters. He seeked all over, asking any creature he could if they had heard of where the great huntsman lay. When venturing into towns, he had even asked there. The results were unsatisfactory, especially with the men. It was until a man who smelt as if a dog had made his bed its home, shuffled in discomfort at the question. The hairy man looked around, then whispered… “If you want to find Hircine, you must hunt the great white stag. Only then will the great huntsman find you worthy.” Now, this all sounded like nonsense to Velwryiin. But he did understand hunting, so out into the land of Skyrim he sought the great white elk.
The only thing that spoke the same words from his home land was the vegetation, which would grow despite it all.
The tufts of fur on the mer’s skin seemed to grow thicker as it got colder in the land of Skyrim. Snow speckled on his slender face, and as his tail swiveled from left to right, the freezing air followed. He lie low in the sleet, making a dent with every little moment. The white powder towered over him, almost acting as the tall grass did in Valenwood.
At least if it was long grass, he would know how to interact with it. He was slowly learning how to contact with the snow as a friend, rather than an opposing foe. Thankfully, he had caught on fairly quickly that the blizzards of Skyrim were unsuited for typical Valenwood clothing, but could make quick use of the thick hides of the beasts here.
Mammoths had thick and large hides which could be used to cloth an entire village of cold Nords. Unfortunately it was no easy task to take down one of these large beasts, Velwryiin had noted the giant beings which followed the beasts like they were their domesticated pets. From the times the elf had come across one of these Giants, it didn’t seem too bothered until coming closer. A hit from their wooden tools would be the demise of such a small elf, and dare he say a dishonorable way to die.
As Velwryiin ventured the land, he made notes in a booklet made from the pelt of a skinned goat. Despite being in a new environment, his vow to Y’ffre stayed the same. Making note of cultural differences, and differences with habitat, the elf learned this land quickly. He may have adapted to the ways of the outside world, but men were something he couldn’t wrap his head around.
They dwelled in great big hoards of rocks, hoarding people, objects and treasures inside. It is no wonder why the people inside the stone walls go mad, and kill one another. Velwryiin had no use to go into the walls of cities.The rich habits of men were not something that the wood elf could swallow wholly. He couldn’t wrap his head around the wood elves which lived peacefully among these men. Have they no care for the devotion of Y’ffre? Velwryiin had nothing in common with these Falsehood Elves. They lived in their wood carved homes, and burned the very land which gave them life.
But if not with the men, and not with the mer within the city walls, where?
Velwryiin had heard tales of the huntsman Hircine, who sheltered the bravest of hunters. He seeked all over, asking any creature he could if they had heard of where the great huntsman lay. When venturing into towns, he had even asked there. The results were unsatisfactory, especially with the men. It was until a man who smelt as if a dog had made his bed its home, shuffled in discomfort at the question. The hairy man looked around, then whispered… “If you want to find Hircine, you must hunt the great white stag. Only then will the great huntsman find you worthy.” Now, this all sounded like nonsense to Velwryiin. But he did understand hunting, so out into the land of Skyrim he sought the great white elk.
