"Captain, how long until we arrive?" Ithilnur asked in a somewhat demanding tone towards the Dunmeri ship captain. "A few hours left, Sir. Should be dark by the time we land." Ithilnur offered a small, curt nod of the head and turned back on his heel, going below deck. He was tall, even for an Altmer and well-built, yet still holding a graceful, poised stance and pace. His features were long and sharp, everything straight and clean. His light blonde hair, only somewhat differentiating from his light skin ran slightly down past his shoulders, parted in the middle. A neat, well kept beard formed at the lower half of his face and a somewhat long scar ran over his left eye. His eyes were often a noticeable part of his visage, being a piercing green that some might say glowed under certain lighting. He was garbed in simple Mage robes, Elven boots and gauntlets complimenting his legs and arms respectively. The rest of his armor lay in his pack, alongside his trusty blade. For now, an Elven dagger lay hidden in the folds of his outfit just in case. 

He had to keep searching for a place to stay. Cyrodiil nearly burnt, Summerset under Thalmor control, Skyrim filled with bigots, Morrowind was the next stop. Ithilnur's pride was hurt, he was forced to go scampering about, searching for a bed to rest his head on at the end of every day. Though he certainly was not destitute, he would not be considered wealthy by Altmeri standards. 

After a few hours of thinking and wasting time, the captain's loud voice called out. They had made port. His thin lips curved into a smile, Ithilnur grabbed his items and made his way above deck. "So this is Morrowind." He began to no-one in particular. "Let's hope it meets the margin." He said before approaching the boarding dock. 

He handed a bag of coin to the captain before leaving the boardwalk into the city of Vvardenfell itself...