Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20200201220132/@comment-25828117-20200204210027

While the members of the covenant retired for the night, a mysterious stranger walked the streets of Kragenmoor with a pleased glint in his eyes.

The city was rediscovering itself. These were but the necessary growing pains that every fresh new reborn had to go through. To rediscover what was more important than everything else in the world; Challenge. Dunmer had grown complacent for centuries. Weak-willed and pathetic in the face of challenge, letting others do battle for them, letting themselves be invaded over and over again. But no more. Today marked a new beginning.

He walked through the smoldering timber of what had once been a small Imperial temple. A soot blackened effigy stood out among the rubble, it drew the stranger's attention.

Zenithar always was weak. Unwilling to do whatever was needed to succeed. The fool. Fairness in commerce did not exist. Labor was a means to an end, not a virtue in of itself.

Needless to say, the stranger held the divine in particularly low regard and placed his black boot on the effigy, breaking it beyond recognition.

Such nonsense would no longer be tolerated here.

Today marked a new beginning indeed. The Dunmer would once again become conquerors themselves and reclaim their homeland and then what lay beyond. Every limit would be met and thoroughly surpassed after, until they conquered all. And then they would discover who was best among themselves and the glorious circle would begin anew. Because without suffering and struggle, without challenge, you had no way to gauge your own betterment.

A snake with black scales slowly wrapped itself around the stranger's boot, climbing its master while looking almost like a living ornament; well trained and loyal, but only for as long as it was fed. That loyalty could vanish just like that, and its venom was most lethal. The snake wrapped around its master's shoulders. A bite to the neck would be swift and unstoppable but Boethiah had no fear that could shake him, he could look danger right in the eye.

He continued walking the streets, unseen by the people locked in their frenzy to destroy and overthrow. Among them hid the cowardly and the weak, enjoying the immunity of being part of the right group. A loathsome bunch indeed, but their time would come in the end. There was nothing more thrilling than killing those who had run out of excuses, knowing their doom was entirely of their own doing and ill choices. That is when they would surrender their soul to you, to be molded into something fitting a coward until they proved themselves worthy of better.

Eventually a particular sight interested him. A girl hiding in an alleyway. An Imperial at that. Boethiah was like shadow, appearing before her without so much as a single sound. Needless to say the woman was quite startled by the sight of the towering 'man'.

"P-please spare me!"

Weak.

"I thought it was interesting that you survived this long. I have been looking upon my work and I think you are the last one.

"T-the last one?"

"By the way you look I imagine you were in a fight. But you are no fighter, are you?"

I thought not.

"So someone must have helped you, correct?"

The woman was just confused to the point that Boethiah's patience ran out.

"Speak."

"Y-yes. A woman, a nord helped me. Please you've got to help me as well! I won't make it out of this city alive!"

Boethiah supposed that was the first thing she said that made sense.

Indeed you won't.

"A Nord warrior? How interesting."

"Y-yeah and a flying sword helped her."

"Is that so..."

The woman nodded before asking the stranger again:

"Will you help me?"

Boethiah just looked down at the mortal before she disappeared in a haze of smoke.

"Help yourself."

A Nord and a flying sword. No doubt belonging to a certain Breton healer that had fallen ill in Cheydinhal, a certain Breton healer that Sanguine had also mentioned. Boethiah was starting to see a pattern. She just wondered if the competition did as well.

7th of First Seed

Yesterday the covenant had left the Imperial military camp in the early morning and had ridden all day at a quick pace. The jagged spires of Stonefalls eventually led into a small water basin on which the small town of Uneyn stood. And it literally stood. On stilts!

Small wooden walkways connected the cute little houses in that alien architectural style of the Dunmer. It was the first sight of Dunmer civilization since Kragenmoor and it already looked infinitely better.

From the looks of it, it was too small to have stores that sold anything of note, bar stalls that had the essentials there was not much economic buzz happening. Sleepy was a way to describe it.

"So this is where we're going to find a ship?" Nemicus asked with some sarcasm present in his voice. He didn't see much in the way of masts sticking out from behind the rooftops of Uneyn.

"Well. The commander did say boat."

"That's fine and all, but a boat's not going to hold all our horses. Especially not Justus over there."

Lysilde sat straight in Morin's saddle, looking out across the basin. It was pretty, in a rugged sort of way.

Midnight of course, had no opinion on the aesthetics of the matter.