Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160529172721/@comment-27519580-20160530171959

First he felt the weight. Then the smell. And finally the breathlessness.

The cathay under the pile of bodies quickly opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by dead bodies. Without wasting even a fraction of second, he started pushing them aside. He was weak. His body was aching. But his reflex did not allow his body to stop until a glimpse of light escaping from bodies above him reached his eyes. He took a sigh of relief. He started moving the bodies again, and eventually managed to get out. He looked back at the huge pile of bodies with a confused look.

His last memory was of regret, that he had not taken anyone's help, that he went on adventuring alone, and was not even able to survive a pack of wolves. He remembers being hurt badly, laying on the ground, wishing the twin moons...Please don't let it end like this. After that, how was he in between a pile of bodies, is beyond his comprehension.

In all this confusion, he hears a scream in the distance. He decides to investigate and starts walking towards in the direction where he heard the scream. But just after a few steps, he realizes that he had no weapon. Being unarmed was never an issue for him, but it was the steel dagger that he could not find on himself. The dagger which was precious to him more than anything else. But then he remembers it too, that the dagger was the weapon by which had taken down the last wolf. Probably it's still in his skull. he thought.

He gets back near the pile of bodies and starts searching. He had been a scavenger for all his life. This was no different. Fortunately, without looking much, he finds a bow, along with few arrows. At this point he hears another cry, another voice, from the same direction. The cathay left the location to investigate, as he heard the scream a few more times.

As he nears the location from where he heard the scream, he took out his bow. He saw a group of people, surrounding a young breton, heavly wounded on the ground. Not far from him was a redguard, his left arm dismembered, howling in pain.

He stood their still. Not sure whether the people in front of him were friends or foe. But he sure wanted it to be the former.