Publied also on RR
Marcus is an 11-year-old child. Like all boys of his age, he loves video games, fantasy and role-playing.
Falling into a hole, he leaves the cave but transformed into a magical and legendary creature.
A Vouivre, a kind of Wyverne...
Somewhere in Nirn's plan, where the mortal creatures remain....
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It is said that the races of the North resemble snow... immaculate and icy, eternal perhaps. I was born in a world of frost, strong and impetuous winds, which pierce you to the bone;
I don't know anything else.... In the Upper Hrothgar where I live, you never see soldiers of the Empire; they have much better things to do with the various nations of Tamriel.
Old Ningheim once taught me that Tamriel meant the Beauty of the Dawn! And then she died, like all those of my people....
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We Ningheims have always been feared by ordinary men; whether we are good or bad, or in between, has hardly mattered. Our striking splendour, our ability to search souls, the fact that with a single glance we can break the will of our adversaries... all this remains unfathomable and mysterious for all humanity.
The magic!!!!! It is mixed with the sources of life, as well as water and light; the snow elves knew all its secrets.
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In the past, they were a rich and prosperous society, but the war with the Nordics broke out... with its procession of destruction and suffering. The alliance with the dwarves was fatal to them; condemned to the blindness of their entire race, the snow elves gradually became sad and corrupt beings, doomed to annihilation...
It seems that the Ningheims come from an elven tribe even older than the snow elves, and also that they were powerful warriors sent from heaven above; this is what most legends tell us about them.
