Book Information | |||
---|---|---|---|
Seen In: |
I first discovered my love for hunting in my own backyard, so to speak. I grew up in the Colovian Highlands, and the grasslands of the Imperial Reserve were a mere half-day's walk from my father's house. From the time I was old enough to string a bow, I used to slip away to roam the Reserve and try my luck. Deer, antelope, pheasant, and the occasional West Weald boar abounded in the finest hunting ground between Cyrodiil and the Gold Coast.
Given the abundant game, I came to appreciate why the old emperors kept the place for themselves. My father told me that Emperor Brazollus Dor used to love hunting in these lands. In fact, he loved it a lot more than sitting on the Ruby Throne and trying to run the empire, so he told his potentate to deal with business in Cyrodiil while he built himself a villa near Weatherleah. His only official act was to declare a vast swath of the plains his own personal game reserve.
For a century or so, no one but the occasional poacher dared to take the Emperor's deer. But the Potentates who followed the Reman Emperors weren't interested in paying to guard herds they never personally hunted. The Imperial Reserve gradually became just a name on a map in the White-Gold Tower. Soon, the ordinary people of Colovia, including my father, and myself, quietly resumed hunting in the area. And why not?
I've hunted all over Tamriel. I've tracked mammoths in Skyrim, speared nix-oxen in Morrowind, and skinned wamasu in Black Marsh. But I come back to the Imperial Reserve in Colovia at least once a year for the simple pleasure of a good, clean hunt in the land where I was born. Especially in the fall, when the air is crisp and the bucks are in the rut.
I'll see you on the hunt!