"You are not alone."
Remember this the next time you wander the harsh, frozen lands of Skyrim. Many have tried --and failed-- to discover what lurks out there, in the mists, and many will after you are gone. Tell me . . . do you have what it takes to survive?
"The Dragonborn may very well carry the day, but to this uncaring realm, as far as the visuals, your armor is pale, your weapon enchantments gutter . . . and you seem . . . mortal."
Colors are muted, the wind howls, the shadows are deeper than usual, and vision is less certain. That moment of hesitation, that split-second of "Can I really do this?" . . . This is what we want. People won't feel it consciously. We're not playing to them. We just want them to feel that slight unease when barging into one of the myriad hells Tamriel connects to. No horror. No jumpscares. Just a tiny prick of uncertaintly.
That small voice of doubt in every person . . . that's what we're playing to. Just a moment.
