Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20150505163801/@comment-10197675-20150505205717

Meanwhile east of Markarth upon a path nearby Karth River…

Alvarindn gradually made his way along the road beside Karth River, lingering, as he slowly made progress towards Markarth. The sky was grey and the light rain made the valley he was in dreary and damp, the temperatures were not to kind either as coldness seemed to endure remaining the same as it was in Dawnstar to Whiterun to Rorikstead. Foul weather seemed to trail the Dunmers presence, lasting a durable period, yet remaining grey and coarse.

The Mer had a queer feeling within himself; one that made him feel aged, it was almost as if hours were passing by the second and his body was becoming ever more dilapidated. The Mer held his arm out bringing it away from his chest slowly turning it over so he could sight the palm of his hand, and a light spark still dwindled and pain still enshrouded his hand upon where the light had entered his palm. The Mer quivered as he then curled his fingers back into his palm, closing it, trying to hide the light and press upon the pain, an attempt to rid of it, as the pressure hindered the sting, but it did not purge it. He then folded his arm back into his chest and with a grit of the teeth he lingered onwards, slowly trudging along the path ahead, his sullen eyes focused upon the road in front of him, his worn nose sounding the heavy and lazed breathes, in taken… and out taken. And his weary bones creaking and cracking while his stamina drained, yet his thoughts remained clear and dark.

And as the Dunmer passed a cliff side he was unaware of the fiends who stalked him. Three Forsworn hunted the Dunmer, each seeking murder, each yearning sin. The part Breton, part Nord hunters were upon higher ground than Alvarindn, they all held bows, awaiting the time to strike and kill. For when Alvarindn would reach the bridge they would fire at will.

[]The Dunmer gradually reached the bridge, his face still bruised and scarred. Alvarindn’s energy still remained low and there was nothing he could do, for his potions had been used and his rations eaten. He reached the bridge.

Alvarindn felt the first arrow rupture the back of his right shoulder as he staggered forwards looking down at the arrows tip which was lodged through his flesh, the process then repeated upon the Dunmers left shoulder, as yet another arrow penetrated the Mer and once again he saw the silver tip burrow through his shoulder. Alvarindn then swiftly turned, the arrows still wedged into place, his eyes now fixed and wide turning pure and bright, as his arm started to arise as he readied to fire a ray of light, however the Dunmers movements were to slow and frail, as the third arrow pierced his gullet, bringing worry and fright. Alvarindn sprawled and stumbled as he fell to the ground, blood splutted from his agape mouth as he attempted a breath. The Dunmer knelt upon his knees, his hands gripped the arrow that had impaled his neck. He could not pull it out. He heard the gargle of blood from his pierced throat as he tried to intake more air, but his efforts were in vain, for he heard the loud footsteps of his foes gradually coming towards him, getting closer… and closer… and closer…