I woke up with cool salt air in my lungs and sand under my face. I might have thought it a dream if Wendel’s hot fetid breath didn’t sweep through the moment like a wild horse.
I was in Summerset, though I couldn’t remember why. I seemed to have all my things: Pants? check. Tunic? check. Staff? check. Daedric servant of a mysterious lord who’s presence I cannot elude? check.