Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-19164168-20170111042546/@comment-24280666-20170112025445

The hatch to the underground base opened with a creak, as the smell of burning powder invaded the descending figure's senses. The figure cursed, in an odd, distorted voice.

Dropping off the ladder, the figure took in the room. Five Imperial Soldiers lay dead, with prototype weapons the figure did not recognize. Next to the soldiers was a Bosmer, full of holes and void of blood. His skin was pale, but his mouth was twisted into a smile, that had remained past the loss of consciousness and blood.

The figure sighed, as the smell of dead flesh overwhelmed the scent of powder. The figure approached the Bosmer, it's boots sticking to the pool of drying blood that surrounded him. The figure reached down with a gloved hand and felt the chest of the Bosmer, feeling every indent and hole the bullets had made.

The figure hissed as an Imperial soldier, who had barely survived the attack, stirred behind him. The figure turned it's body, still crouching, and lashed out it's hand, black tendrils of wilting shadows flying from it and silencing the Imperial, as his body disintegrated into a black mist.

The figure returned to focusing on the Bosmer, frowning at the large pool of blood. The figure reached one of it's hand underneath the body, feeling for the casings of the projectile. Feeling one, the figure picked it out, grimacing at the odd casing. The figure levitated the object over his palm, before tiny tendrils extended from his fingers, seemingly probing the shell. Suddenly, the figure angrily evaporated the bullet, grunting in an odd series of noises.

The figure picked up the body of the Bosmer with one arm, using another grab one of the prototype weapons with a shadowy tendril from his hand. The figure went deeper into the underground base, heading towards the forge.