Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150602035155/@comment-29461586-20150603144334

"..." Lea went silent and took on a depressed expression.

"...Who said I wanted to copy him?" He asked in a monotone voice.

"...My left arm became infected from rabies from a zombie. Before I knew it, Fenrir cut it off with an axe, and had the Archmage of the Mages Guild forcefully graft an Daedra's arm on me.

...Fenrir. He wanted to create the perfect soldier. He chose me. He tried to force me, even though I wasn't a good candidate. When my arm was repaired, he rewarded me with only words.

He said that I was next to worthless, and that my contribution and training meant nothing if I failed. Funny. How all of that is true."