Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20170617000931/@comment-5583506-20170618215745

Torbjorn angrily cut his path through the cultists. Men, women, children. He cared little for their lives at this point whether they were possessed or not. What he had seen this day had judged them all unworthy to continue living, young and old.

A settlement like this shouldn't have existed in the first place, he thought.

"Get your dirty hands off of me!" he growled, furiously swinging his greataxe in a half-circle in front of him. Gutting, slicing and dicing his way to safety.

Tyrus had managed to wake Shanks up just in time before the events, though the Khajiit seemingly hadn't been sleeping at all for the entire time. More like... resting, as if he had some sort of notion as to what would happen.

"Get the madman out of here!" shouted Torbjorn as he brought his greataxe down upon a man standing in his way, splitting him in two vertically.

Blood sputtered up in pulsating cascades as he made his way through, ridden with guts, gore and his armor stained with red. In a way he felt disgusted. This sensation of slaughtering civilians felt far too familiar for comfort...



Catryn couldn't believe what she had just seen. She knew that she shouldn't be surprised that the ghost stories of Hackdirt were true after all. But nothing in this world could've prepared her for what she had just seen. It felt unreal.

She decided however to stay close to the prince. She didn't want to be left alone as of now, and she couldn't see where Torbjorn or her other henchmen had run off to.

I just hope they are alright.