Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20150921221737/@comment-25828117-20150926175151

''Meanwhile. ''

Alain looked up at the mountain range they were about to cross.

"By the nine. The gods must've built Skyrim when they were drunk. How are these peaks even possible."

Percival chuckled.

"You thought only the wrothgarian mountains were steep and rugged?"

Alain shook his head.

"No. It's more the snow and cold that's getting to me."

One of his men had heard him and yelled:

"Bah! Cheer up, my lord! Once we've crossed the Jeralls we'll be in warm sunny Cyrodiil!"

Alain smirked.

"I suppose that's true. Come to think of it, I'd really like a good glass of Cyrodiilian wine."

The nobleman looked back towards the mountain. A small path of hairpîn turns, not set in cobblestone led up to a small empasse. Only barely visible from the foot of the mountain.

"Alright everyone. Form one line. This road isn't going to be easy!"