Prologue: The Arrival
Clip! Clop! Clip! Clop!
The lone rider emerged from the forest. Mounted as he was, his horse maintained a steady trot. Drawing closer and closer to Castle Araluen, he gazed up in awe.
"Surprisingly large, it is" he said, seemingly to his horse. The horse simply whinnied in reply, its black coat blending in with the night.
The rider did not bother to approach unheard, causing the guards at the drawbridge to awake to the sound of a horse's hooves. However, looking up from their post, they saw little more than glowing red eyes. This was due to the rider's choice of attire, which included a black hooded cloak over a tunic and trousers, both of which the same color as his cloak. All of this allowed him to melt into the background... somewhat like a Ranger.
Speaking up in a darker, rougher voice than he had spoken earlier, he said, "Graham Silverwing. High Queen Elisif the Fair has sent me. Skyrim calls for your aid."
