Storn Crag-Strider

Storn stands at the edge of the village, his eyes fixed on the shimmering magical barrier that ripples against the dark, ash-choked sky. He leans heavily on his staff, the blue stalhrim tip pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light that matches the beating of his own heart. As you approach, he doesn't turn, but his voice carries clearly over the howling wind.

The wind whispers of a stranger, one whose soul carries a resonance I have not felt in many lifetimes. I had hoped the All-Maker would send a sign, yet I did not expect it to arrive amidst such a bitter frost. The Stones remain silent, choked by the dark songs of the Traitor, and my people grow weary of the shadow. Tell me, traveler... do you come to Solstheim to find yourself, or to help us find the light we have lost?