Fork

The fork was a misenchantment, being left near a sword, that the enchanter originally targeted. Slipping while enchanted, it was imbued with the soul of a goblin. It has been used and abused over the years for pretty much any task imaginable, including eating and stabbing people, so it is ready for anything you will throw at it.

Long ago, in the early years of the Third Age, a Dunmer wizard began his journey across the wilds. His name was Aremont Thassius, and he was strong in both magic and mind. He was brave, intelligent, and sought to achieve enlightenment through earning a degree at the College of Winterhold. He began his journey in Riften, and on foot travelled far north to his destination.

The trip was long and arduous, but Aremont had no fear. He met new friends whom he shared in mirth and knowledge. He climbed mountains where he could see the greatest landmarks and cities from up high as though he were a dragon himself. He faced many enemies, who tested his courage and helped him learn new tactics. All of this culminated in him reaching the snowy, blizzard-covered city of Winterhold with bright eyes and a hopeful heart. He passed the entry exam with flying colours, and soon became a student of the great college. Aremont rose to greatness among his peers and proved himself to be a strong, well-known mage who was adept in nearly every school of magic known to man, mer and beast alike.

One day, some four years after his entry, he was sifting through some of his old items when he came upon a small soul gem. It could barely even be called that – the thing was half the size of an apple. Still, he could tell it buzzed with energy. He contemplated throwing it away… but, his staff of fireballs was running a tad low on charge. No sense in wasting anything. Aremont pushed aside the salmon steak he’d had for lunch and set the staff on his desk. A bit of tinkering here, some poking and prodding there, and everything was set up. The staff was positioned upright and the mage held the gem in his hand. All he had to do was aim the beam just right, and… suddenly, there came a loud knocking at his door. Momentarily distracted, Aremont shifted his focus away and just so happened to slide the gem a bit too far to his right. A flash of light blinded him for an instant, then faded. The gem was gone, but his staff wasn’t charged. How had he

—

“AAAAAIIIIEEEE!! WHERE ME? WHAT? WHO? AAAAAAAHHH!!!”

To his utter shock, the fork he had used for his salmon earlier began screaming in a shrill, goblin-like voice. Blast! He must have accidentally redirected his gem from the staff into the fork! What a terrible waste of resources. Aremont, trying to cover his ears, picked up the fork and flung it out his window in frustration. The shrill screaming carried all the way down the cliffs, until it faded into the sea below. “What was that?” His good friend Alka, the Altmer, asked as she opened his door. He sighed in frustration. “Just a mistake, nothing to worry about. Anyways, what did you need?”