Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24372248-20140730202253/@comment-29458028-20140810031639

Corentin Mercer awoke. The ground was soft, very soft. Wait, where was he? Corentin examined his surroundings. He was in an inn, on a bed. What inn was it? It was high time to check it out. Making a mental note not to request Meridia to teleport him ever again (well, he is partially an Auroran, Meridia can mess with him quite easily, but she can only do so if he's asleep/meditating), Corentin got off the bed. His back ached from where he lay down on his sword (luckily it's the flat part, not the edge). Horse travel was slower, but less unconfortable

Corentin exited the room he was in, taking in the sights. His mind began to cross match the faces he saw to his memory lexicon, identifying people one after another.

"It has to be Whiterun. I recognise the innkeeper, since I came here before. Hmm, some other familiar faces are present" commented Corentin, to himself. He questioned himself about why he came here when he felt a note in his satchel, a note that was not there. Taking it out, he read the Daedric font.

Corentin

''While you requested transport to Cyrodiil, your house, after slaying those eldritch abominations that I asked you to, I have something more important for you to carry out. You have a reason to be in Skyrim, a reason that you will find. If you would require my guidance, my temple is always open.''

Meridia