Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191002222622/@comment-7262318-20191009160605

“Yeah... but there’s a difference between swapping between a rabbit hunt and a deer hunt, and swapping a rabbit out for a... 4-armed, Fire-breathing Daedra-troll...” Garran exaggerated.

———

As she approached, Shrava began to work out a plan. Attronachs or fire walls at every entrance, then dropping a storm of fire onto their heads. No running, no escape, and no surviving.

First, the partygoers. Then the Redguard. Her death would be slow. Painful. She would know suffering the likes of which she had never felt before.

But as she planned and calculated, she suddenly ran into another being. She got into a defensive stance, before she saw the Dark Elf blocking her path. He was a large, burly man, dressed in commoners clothes and head shaven bald. His hands were calloused from work, and his face aligned with wrinkles and other scars. This man, she knew.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Avarus asked her.

“Killing a cult.”

“You’re committing a crime.”

“It’s a Daedric cult, Avarus,” she sneered. “You’d prefer I let them live?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t murder innocent people in cold blood in this manner,” Avarus spoke. “Innocent men are down there. Men who are victims of unfortunate circumstance.”

“Tough break.”

“Could you be so cruel?”

“Easily,” Shrava retorted.

“Shrava this isn’t you.”

“It most certainly is. Move.”

Avarus however would not budge. He would hopefully stall her until someone else arrived.