Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24449631-20140827094909/@comment-24449631-20140827181001

A rooster crowed the new dawn.

A new day had arrived and with it, the smell of freshly baked loafs from the oven.

The Nord twitched his nose while he kept his eyes closed, though he was very well rested and the need to keep his eyelids shut grew slimmer by the second.

Faint reddish light peered through the open window of his room. Skyrim could be cold, even in the summer, but Riften and Falkreath could be seen as exceptions. Being the most southern towns of Skyrim it was only natural that Kyne would be more forgiving on them. Sadly that was really the only thing that was brought from the south these days…

Because of the war, Riften was quite cut off from any Cyrodiillian trade routes. Only the Khajiit and merchants who resided within the city itself could get to outlander supplies. Though it didn’t help with the fact that business was slower than usual. Such is the way of war.

Rowan opened his eyes as he felt the warm line of light move over him as the sun rose.

Once he got up, he did his morning routine. They might be one of the few prosperous families of Riften, that didn’t mean there wasn’t any work to be done.

Get up, wash your face, scrub your arms, put on your clothes, greet family at breakfast, eat breakfast, prepare for another day of fishing out on the lake…

All fairly typical stuff, albeit a tad dull…

But that wasn’t too much of a problem for Rowan. He didn’t mind.

If there was one way to describe Rowan it was: Content

He hoped, that even in these uncertain times, things would stay the way they were. Though whether or not that would be the case…

We’ll just have to see.

