Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20151017130502/@comment-29559990-20151024164846

Meanwhile, on the ground floor of the manor...

Hafnir ran his ghostly hands across the splintered column, sighing as he did so. There was a sense of relief in the old Nord. Dalacon had met his end. Permanently, this time. Hafnir was sure that the war monger would never see the light of day ever again from the confines of his soul gem, but that sense of nearly watching Vordel fall weighed heavily on his mind.

He glided through the doors of his manor with great ease, and stopped to look around at the place. How long had it been since he set two mortal feet in this house? The knowledge of when he was last in his mortal body had fled his mind. Was it 11 years ago that Goriyn had ended his life? Perhaps it was 13? Maybe even 15? Either way, he wouldn't dwell on the subject any longer. His boots went quietly across the old and attritioned wood, and sat down calmly at the empty table.

A small pot of tea materialized in front of him, already steaming and ready to be poured. He did just that, into a tea cup which was also created from thin air. As the tea escaped from the spout, the sound of a bed creaking at a steady pace and a soft moan penetrated his ear drums. When the old nord put the pieces of that puzzle together, he looked up to the ceiling above him and frowned.

With a snap of the fingers, he had tuned out that noise and relaxed in his chair. The tea had finished pouring itself, and the cup floated gracefully into the Nord's awaiting fingers.

For a while, Hafnir did very little outside of relax and occassionally take a sip from his cup, letting time simply wander by. His mind was racing with many thoughts on the story he was reading. It was quite the tale. A naive Dark Elf warrior with a troubled, tortured past going on a quest to end the rule of a corrupt battlemage, and along the way, he found old friends and fell in love with an Argonian Rogue. The stories taken a brilliant twist, and it's made Hafnir eager to read the next chapter.

The story is obviously no work of fiction. He'd been watching over all of them since his passing. Denon, Vordel, Kazrris, and Utahsi. And no, he was not stalking them. Think of it more as a guardian angel. He was eager to see how they're stories would unfold. In fact, he needed to check up on Utahsi's side of the story. Last he read, he was taking a Khajiit to the waterfront for a meeting with a criminal boss.

He extended his free hand and a book with the simple phrase Utahsi printed on the front of the cover. He flipped through the pages until he had found the page he had left off on. He began to read though it. He read over the section of his bickering with the Khajiit, and he chuckled a bit. Utahsi had always been the ridiculing one of the group...

He continued on through the chapter, reading now on his traveling through the dungeon. More bickering with the Khajiit. A few flames tossed here and there. And now, the story came to a halt halfway down the page, with the last sentence speaking of Utahsi freeing the captive sisters.

"Excellent work, Utahsi," He said to himself, closing the book and letting it dissipate back into nothingness, resuming the consumption of his tea...