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Monday, November 14, 2011

Winterhold College

I have arrived!
An entire castle full of magical talent. A lifetime worth of knowledge.

And no, I don't know what that glowing pool is for, but they've got those things all over the place--Even in the living quarters, which doesn't seem very accommodating.

Those magic pools make a lot of noise.
You eventually get used to the sound, though. Like a washing machine.

This is one of my peers. A fellow novice.
And stop me if this sounds bigoted, but what's up with Khajiit talking in the third person?
Do they do that for my benefit? Like it's a redundant memory exercise that'll help me learn their ridiculous names?
This cat snores, and his room is right next to mine. What the hell?
At least he never mentions warm sands. Two brownie points for whatever your name is.

My first impression of the Winterhold College? I don't think anyone around here gives a shit. 

"Remember, students: If you're not messing with forces way beyond your control then you're doing it wrong."

Don't get me wrong. All of the wizards who teach here love their particular fields of magic. The librarian loves his books, the illusionist loves looking at you in a way that makes you slightly uncomfortable, and when I pass that broad in charge of restorative magic I don't even look up because she might have one of her episodes and accuse me of not loving restorative magic enough.

But they're all just in it for themselves. The entire College could collapse into the Sea of Ghosts just so long as their little study area remained intact.
And I guess you can't blame them. Have you met the guy who runs this place?

"No. Go ahead and keep on talking. I'm just going to continue reading and you can ramble on about whatever crap comes into your head until you figure out that I'm not paying attention."

I actually had one of the college wizards tell me that if I wanted to run an experiment involving the abuse of another living creature then I should just make sure to do it off of college grounds.

And one dude tried to sell me a black soul gem, which is some seriously evil magic, and this is coming from a guy who traveled the countryside burning people alive if they looked at me funny.

And if that wasn't enough of a warning flag for corruption, there's essentially a "Don't ask, don't tell." policy on necromancy. Fucking necromancy!

I actually disagree with Traven's conclusion in The Black Arts on Trial, but I'm still a conservative when it comes to this particular field of magic; and you would be, too, if you knew how many murderous necromancers were hiding out in the wilds of Skyrim.
Want to guess where most of those rogue necromancers got their education?

Yeah! That's right! The same fucking college that I'm attending!

I've already heard half a dozen stories from the master wizards about their students branching out, and taking residence in a nearby abandoned keep, so they can continue their studies on Mara knows what poor bastard happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And do the teachers care?


They're running a fucking necromancer factory and taking absolutely no responsibility for it because nobody in this college gives a shit.

I found this in the tunnels underneath the college.
It doesn't look like arts and crafts to me.

No wonder the Nords hate wizards.

1 comment:

  1. You should have replaced "necromancy" with "necrophilia". It would have been funnier.