Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20150310112937/@comment-24942837-20150325222231

Eredin began to pluck arrows off the corpses of the fallen Legionnaires before they were thrown away, tearing the excess flesh off of them. One of them, a pure Imperial at heart, grinned.

"23 years later, and the Stormcloaks are still scavenging off our corpses," he applauded lazily. "Why don't you throw yourself in the fire, do us all a favor?"

Eredin stood up straight, looking at the Legionnaire. "I'll be sure to remember that when the Forsworn send you to Aetherius. If you're ever dying in these battles, shot in the chest with an arrow, begging for me to end the pain...

"I won't. I'll give you the most grotesque corpse you can imagine tenfold, and leave you for the wolves. Maybe they mind find the one purpose -you- serve, friend."

Eredin smiled, an arrow still nocked in his bow. He raised his bow, grinning, as the horrified Imperial flinched away. "That's what I thought."

Torolf walked over and punched his brother in the arm. "What the hell are you doing? Are you seriously threatening to kill an Imperial Legionnaire? Do you -want- another civil war?"

"Of course n--"

"Then pull your head out of your ego's ass and get on with the battles, and preparation!" He leaned down to Eredin, whispering, "Look, I can almost guarantee half of these men are going down, -with- or -without- your oh-so gracious death threats." He stood up erect, pulling out his greatsword. "Best you stay on the surviving half, because I plan to."