anvil

^ The setting sun always turns Anvil's harbour into a striking view bathed in amber and gold.

I have returned to the lighthouse in Anvil after being away for far too long. Some of my best solitary moments were spent up there, especially during my apprenticeship in the local Mages Guild, when I would bring with me a tome or two on the arcane arts of magic to study and I was free from the noise of the town below. And now that I have mastered many of the arts and have since become the Arch-Mage of the Arcane University in the great Imperial City, my focus of study here this evening is the ever beautiful views this structure has always commanded.

^ From the top of the lighthouse one can see the fortress walls of the city of Kvatch, tragically destroyed by the Daedric horrors unleashed through the Oblivion gates. The other cities of Cyrodiil have since pledged to fund her rebuilding and one day Kvatch will once more stand, prouder than ever.

The lighthouse keeper Ulfgar, to my surprise, was so much beside himself with joy at seeing me approaching that he ran out halfway to meet me and shake my hand. I thought he had forgotten about me. It seems so long ago that he kept one eye on me out of distrust, as if I may steal something from his home. He never did fully warm up to me then, but now he practically begged me to stay and have dinner with him and tell him stories of some of my adventures as the 'champion of Cyrodiil'. Word, of course, had reached the townspeople's ears and I wouldn't be surprised if Ulfgar's sudden full fledged hospitality was the result of my celebrity.

I suggested we take the food up to the top and eat by the glow and warmth of the large fire that lit the structure and guided the merchant ships to harbour. He was more than happy to oblige. We talked for a while, he a completely rapt audience to my recounting of some of my adventures. I asked him to tell me about himself, surely a man as seasoned as him would have many interesting stories to share, too.

^ Ulfgar made my stories the centerpiece of the evening atop his lighthouse. We agreed that the next time I'm there his stories will take center stage.

But I could see he was growing tired and a bit sleepy (probably from the wine) so I suggested another date with his tales as the main course, and this time I will bring all the food and drink. I left the lighthouse that peaceful, cloudy night, knowing that Ulfgar will have sweet dreams while tucked so safely in his warm bed, and I, well fed once again, will rest just as soundly.