A Cold Night at the Winterhold Inn

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I am a traveler that has come from afar.

I have seen famine, warmth, winter, and war.

But my time is over; Mara calls me to rest.

So I find myself in Winterhold, at the Raven’s Crest.

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I seat next to a Dark Elf, with years greater than Time.

With me he shares his tales, so with him I share mine.

He tells of adventures from when he was a lad.

If not for my own life, I would have called him mad.

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As I hear his sorrow of marriage, I feel the ground rumble.

Must be the alcohol, I think, causing my mind to tumble.

But the Elf feels it too, and so does the keeper,

And so do all in the inn, for none are sound sleepers.

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“Damn college and their spells!” the keeper screams like a ghost,

As I look out the window and see houses falling from the coast.

The drinks fall to the floor and the Elf is rocked to the ground.

I hear lightning, bones, and other terrible sounds.

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“Is this Kyne’s wrath?!” I shout to the ceiling.

I am jostled to the floor, weeping and kneeling.

All around me is Coldharbour, and I am trapped as a slave.

The floor falls through; and I am ta