Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26245872-20150107222248/@comment-24685738-20150110143352

Pevera sat in her Black Marsh home, brooding over her defeat in Elsweyr. Somehow, even when she was in High Rock, Virlomi was still able to lead her people to victory. And that ignored the Queen of Black Marsh greatly.

She wanted to crush the Elsweyr goddess beneath her feet. She wanted to destroy Virlomi completely.

Not that she had an opportunity, anymore.

Her failure to hold any land in the Elsweyr subcontinent was not do to any error on her own part. Oh no, far from it. Pevera’s plan had been without flaw. Virlomi had simply outmaneuvered her.

Pevera sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It would do her no good to just stew in her misery. She still held the island near the coastline. It provided good resources, and it was good to hold… In case of other…. ‘dealings’ in the area…

She was startled out of her thoughts by a large crash. The sound of windows breaking. The Queen of Black Marsh ran out of the room, towards the sound.

She found blood…

So much blood…

Bodies….Her Argonian guards were slaughtered…. Massacred…

“What…?” Pevera gasped, in surprise, her mind not picking up the miniscule details as it normally would have.

Thus, she didn’t notice the tall Altmer sneaking up behind her. The last thing she saw before she fell into darkness was a damp towel being pressed to her mouth… It smelled… Pretty…

Alai really hated his so-called ‘companions.’

The idiots had practically handed him over to the Breton slaver.

Okay, so, that was sort-of an exaggeration, but they were seriously idiots. Yes, leave High Priest Alai alone in a known slaving district! Yes, why don’t we leave him with no weapons! Oh, yes, that’s genius!

It didn’t help his mood that he was being dragged through the desert, towards High Rock.

They even took his fucking shoes!

Honestly…

Alai struggled to keep himself calm. Maybe it was just Tall Papa, testing him. When he returned to Hammerfell, he’d be able to tell of the Barbarism of the invaders from the North.

Or….

Well, Alai hated to think this.

Maybe Tall Papa was going to make him into a martyr. That was a possibility… It would also help to further the cause.

He hated life.

Especially when they got into the borders of High Rock, and one of them picked up his sword handle, and ‘WHAM!’

Alai was out like a light.

Isis walked down the streets of Balfiera, determined to go an make up with Vigarde.

Of course, she supposed she was trying to be romantic, going there in the middle of the night…

In a deserted alley…

Of course, Isis wasn’t scared. She was on Balfiera! What could go wrong?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone step into the alley, near her. She turned, and…

“Vigarde?” She asked, nervously, taking a step forward. The boy just looked at her, coolly.

She took another few steps forward, and he turned away, beginning to walk. Isis followed. “Vigarde, wait! I’m… I’m sorry!”

The boy still didn’t say anything, but he turned and gave the girl a large smile and a wink, before dashing off.

“Is this a game to you?” Isis asked, before she sighed and chuckled, running after him. Occasionally, he’d look back at her and wink, as she chased after him.

Eventually, their winding path led to the beach. Vigarde ran into the water, apparently not caring about the effect the ash would have on his clothes.

Isis ran after him, and he stopped. He turned around, gave her a smile, and pressed his lips to hers. Isis accepted the kiss, until ‘WHAM!.’

She fell back, into the water, as another man stepped forward and waved his hands, causing the fake-Vigarde to melt into water.

The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was the Maormer reaching down to pick her up.

Petra sighed and sat down on a bench, slightly angry and slightly disappointed that Krem hadn’t arrived yet. He was supposed to show up, like, yesterday!

She glanced around and saw no one, but her senses began to tingle.

Something big had happened in Skyrim yesterday. A massive surge of energy…. Like… a Beacon.

She ran out of the college, and into the town. If Krem was hurt, or something, Petra had to go find him!

She glanced around, before running to the stables and renting a horse. She leaped on it and began to ride…

The girl was barely out of the college when it hit her.

No, literally, something hit her. Something furry…

Petra was knocked off her horse, which promptly whinnied and ran off. She looked over at what had attacked her and saw it…

A werewolf…

No, scratch that.

A were bear.

Petra screamed, scrambling around for her bow. She was low on magicka, due to her training an hour before, and she didn’t really have enough to simply control her arrows. And, stupidly, she forgot potions!

Her bow was lying a few feet away, in a snowdrift, and she lunged for it. She heard the familiar ‘Whump’ of something heavy landing in snow, and Petra realized that she had escaped just in time.

Petra whipped around, placing an arrow to her bowstring, only to find the creature right in front of her. She let loose a silver arrow, which impaled itself in its arm, but the lycanthrope simply smashed her bow and knocked her backwards, into a rock.

She was beginning to panic, now, as the man slowly transformed… The Breton boy, who looked about her age, walked over and pressed a rag to her mouth. She began to feel drowsy, and then she fell asleep…

“It is done, my lord.”

“Thank you, James.” Ulysses replied, and laughed. He was slowly placating the Altmer population, but now he had another new weapon in his arsenal.

Well…

Make that five new weapons in his arsenal.