Quote from Naaga on March 7, 2025, 4:02 am

Severus stepped into the dimly lit cavern of Mara’s Pond, nostrils flaring at the unmistakable scent of decay. The vampires inside were no different from the rest—pitiful creatures clinging to stolen immortality, no more than parasites. He dispatched them swiftly, fire and blade ensuring that none of their filth remained. Their charred remains crumbled into ash, and he took what little valuables they had before leaving, satisfied that the world was slightly less infested.

His next destination took him to Goldenhills Plantation, a decrepit farmstead that whispered of something unnatural. The silence was heavy, the air thick with lingering sorrow. He stepped through the abandoned home, searching for the source of its unease. Then, in a forgotten corner, he found something—a journal, pages brittle with age.

The tale it told was one of tragedy. A boy named Rin had vanished, his parents’ grief turning to blame, then to violence. The farmhouse had borne witness to their downfall. Their souls, now bound to this place, remained unrested.

Severus was not sentimental, but he recognized the weight of unfinished business. Following the journal’s clues, he traced Rin’s fate to Rannveig’s Fast, a ruin steeped in necromantic energy.

Inside, the stench of death was thick, and the air hummed with sinister magic. The necromancer within, arrogant in his decayed dominion, barely had time to register his presence before Severus unleashed a torrent of fire. Their battle was brief, ending with Severus standing over the charred remains of yet another fool who had thought to twist death to his will. Amidst the wreckage, he recovered Rin’s small toy sword, a simple thing yet weighted with untold loss.

The deeper chamber revealed something else—a wall, ancient and humming with power. As Severus approached, his vision blurred, his mind consumed by the rush of knowledge as the second word of Kyne’s Peace etched itself into his very soul. The feeling passed, leaving him standing amidst silence once more.

Returning to the plantation, he placed the toy sword where it belonged. Slowly, as if waking from a long nightmare, the spectral figures of Rin and his parents appeared. Their anguished expressions softened, the weight of their suffering lifting at last. In a final, fleeting moment, they faded into the wind, their souls finally at peace.

With the haunting ended, Severus purchased the land from Proventus in Whiterun, securing Goldenhills Plantation as his own. It was a practical acquisition, a place to store his growing wealth and goods. The idea of managing a farm was tedious, but the potential profit from alchemy and rare ingredients was not lost on him.

His travels then led him to Rorikstead, a village barely worth noting—save for a boy named Erik, trapped under his father’s overbearing rule. Erik’s dreams of adventure were stifled by parental concern, and while Severus had little patience for youthful idealism, he saw no reason to interfere.

However, the boy’s persistence grated on him. With a sigh, he eventually confronted Erik’s father, a few well-placed words and measured arguments loosening the man’s resolve. When the father finally relented, Erik was overjoyed, preparing to set forth on his own path. Severus merely gave a curt nod and left the village behind.

The following days were spent refining his skills, accepting work from the Companions when it suited him, and taking on bounties that challenged his growing mastery of magic. Giants fell beneath his fire, their towering forms crashing to the earth as he claimed the coin for their destruction.

His spellwork grew sharper, his reflexes honed. He had survived in this world far longer than he had anticipated, and in doing so, had begun to shape his own legend within it.