Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191215223703/@comment-25828117-20191219235825

Brindle Home proved to be a curious little stop but perhaps more strange was the fact that nothing really happened that night. As suspicious as the denizens were the morning came without a hitch.

Lysilde had her theories about them. Chances were high they had killed the Daedra worshipers by Sanguine's shrine and they had probably defiled it, considering how close the structure was to the village. What had given them the courage to do it now after it had probably been there since the third era? 'Who knows.' These were dark times and people were getting increasingly more bold in their approach to spirituality. More galvanized. More... certain. Certain in perhaps all the wrong ways.

She wasn't much of a moralist beyond the most basic, most common sense ideals but she could see how this time of religious uncertainty would bring out the worst in people.

After Brindle Home the covenant continued to ride east. And down hill. It was starting to become apparent they were going into the heartlands. The fertile ring around Lake Rumare with in the middle of it, the most desirable city in all of Tamriel.

---

31st of Evening Star

It had been a long day of riding. After so many of them ever since they left Anvil it was perhaps hard to even imagine what a real bed felt like. And they might not know for a longer while. One thing was certain though. The war in the west weald had been contained here. At least it felt that way. And who knew for how long peace would rule these regions, but it was good to know that one could rest easy knowing that no Daedra would come across them into the night and try to slit their throats.

The trees were parting before them. After so long in the accurately named Great Forest it was perhaps strange to realise there was more to Cyrodiil than impressive foliage.

Rolling hills of farmland as far the eye could see, and at the end of it. The spire of the rebuilt White-Gold tower. The great bridge to the island capital was a few days ride away still, but now there was visible confirmation that they were close indeed.

"Nyasia." Helian 'psst'ed

"Nyasia, look!" He repeated pointing at the vague outline of the tower in the far distance.

Nemicus smiled. It had been a while since he had been in the capital. It was amazing to see the spire at any time. Even when it was ruined, there was an ageless majesty to it. A finger of civilization pointing up from the beautiful valley of Rumare.

Midnight didn't see what the fuzz was all about. The city would perish like all others eventually. He was more interested in the 'foreground'. The farms and their typical cyrodiilic mills dotted around the open fields of the Heartlands. Laid out in patches up to the giant lake no doubt.

-

Kashya and Pip were more south, and their view was decidedly less rosey. A large swathe of burned out trees with the sickly sweet smell of death over all of it. War had reached here and its destruction was evident.

Pip Pegolas trembled at the notion of what the city would look like.

His bosmer soul wept for the trees and plants where they had been put to the torch.

"They say that there is a magic of song that can heal wounds and mend nature..." He said absentmindedly.