Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150321040314/@comment-29559990-20150321170033

Denon sat alone upon the branch of one of the mighty tree’s that filled the landscape of Valenwood, simply watching the clouds roll across the morning sky and the bird gliding from tree to tree, letting his mind wander. This was a common past time for the 25 year old wood elf who hailed from the Summerset Isles. When he wasn’t traveling through Tamriel looking for game, he would just take  time to relax and enjoy the majestic play-out of nature. It may have been boring for some, but very peaceful for Denon.

It was also one of the few things that Denon could actually do. He rarely ever stepped away from the world of nature and into the cities. There was no reason to go there. The cities were simply cesspools filled with corrupt rulers, despereate thieves, snobbish nobles, evil killers, and everything in between. Not to mention, the Legendaries. The ones ripping Tamriel apart piece by piece just to satisfy their ego's and lust for power.

So for almost 20 years, he’s been drifting through the lands. He’s been through every climate you can imagine. The snow fields of Skyrim. The swamps of Black Marsh. The deserts of Hammerfell. The Mountains of Cyrodil. The ashy terrain of Morrowind. And of course, the trees’ of Valenwood. No terrain or climate was unfamiliar to him.