Anders in Skyrim (old writing)

Anders had been visiting Winterhold, or rather the College of Winterhold, in order to hone his magic. Being a stone’s throw from Vauile it had taken him about a day getting there. It would have been faster if he had taken a horse, but alas he had never learned how to ride one. He was surprised to see that the mages at the College, unlike the mages of the Circle, weren’t guarded by Templars and allowed to use magic freely. Although there were a equalarity to a senior mage, Tolfdir, that taught magic spells.

When he finally decided that it was time to head home to Vauile the sun had already set. As it often did the snow was falling as he exited the front door to the College, and pulled the furcloak closer to hold the cold at bay. Since he had no wish to impose on the mages more than necessary he paid for an overnight stay at the Frozen Hearth inn. Sitting at one of the corner tables, which were his favorite spot, he had just about finished his meal.

Wearing a blue mage robe, boring compared to those from Thedas, he was sipping on his mead. Slow but surely the blonde mage started to thaw, and he removed his furcloak. When the content of the jug had been emptied he was going to bed. But the night was young and he wished there was one to share the rest with. If he was to drink it all he was probably get drunk and oversleep the morning after. Not that he was in a hurry back, but still.