Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191215223703/@comment-25828117-20191218173040

"Alright, by the nine..." Helian said with a frown as they were led on by Lysilde.

Brindle Home was not too far away from here. The aspiring moth priestess hoped that the villagers had nothing to do with this. Let alone be involved with the war.

"I would like to know who destroyed my shrine." Sanguine did not often show a serious side, but now he did. His red claws seemed to bury into the stonework of the throne he was sitting on.

None of the other Princes looked like they were going to say anything. Perhaps they didn't even know yet.

Mehrunes Dagon chuckled deeply, it sounded like a volcano was about to erupt.

"Do you really think I would send redirect followers from my glorious campaign to destroy that meaningless little shrine of yours?"

Sanguine supposed not but Mehrunes Dagon was an agent of chaos with zealous fools that followed him. They could've acted on their own accord.

"Destroy the mortal cities, but keep my links to Nirn alone. When the dust has settled it would be best if every one of us has a piece of that pie."

This was met with more laughter and not just from Mehrunes Dagon this time. Sanguine was a fool. Not at all military minded yet he thought he could dictate terms? Pathetic.

"I think it would be best you stick to your wine, drunkard. When Nirn belongs to me I will mold it into the most beautiful machine of systematic suffering ever seen." Molag Bal said with grand assumptions.

"Things don't belong to you just because you say they do." Mehrunes Dagon replied levelly.

The lord of calamities was well on his way of carving a great chunk of Cyrodiil out for himself as a base from which all other conquest could be launched. He had learned from the Oblivion Crisis that opening oblivion gates all across the world would spread his forces out too thin. By the time he had learned of Martin Septim it was already too late. This time the Mythic Dawn would be thorough and ruthless. Skingrad would be renamed in his honor and serve as the capital of his new mortal empire, centralized and with purpose. That was how he saw to succeed. Even if he had perhaps a few more tricks up his sleeve. But the others need not know that...

"We shall see." Molag Bal smiled wickedly in return.

Boethiah on the other hand was well on her way of creating her own mortal realm and she was anxious for the time when all the other princes had theirs carved out and the real true Daedra Wars could begin. When the world had been destroyed their new realms would fight for total supremacy. Her personal joy was to see those pathetic Laumer vanquished. Cast their souls after that intruder from the void.

Hircine was silent the entire time. Like a hunter stalking their prey he was mostly looking at Malacath. The lord of the spurned looked at the master of the hunt in return. They were already fighting eachother for control. Hircine's forces in the reach were a thorn in the Orc god's sight. They kept new Orcinium from truly connecting from Hammerfell to Wrothgar.

Peryite meanwhile was silent about his attempted conquest of Summerset. Perhaps he had been too ambitious but his Way of the Rat was slowly but surely building into a force that might vanquish that meddling Way of the Indrik.

The other Daedric Princes had not decided to come to this meeting but they too were out there, in the world... manipulating events, scheming and setting the stage for their plans.

And yet, unbeknownst to them, a small group of mortals were hard at work to bring them all down.

Later that day the covenant arrived at Brindle Home.

Brindle Home was a small village with barely a path connecting the log cabins that served as homes. The number of houses ranged in the single digits and the most prominent feature really were all broad tree stumps that showed where exactly the wood that made these cabins came from. Not a single soul was out and about. The town came across as deserted. Perhaps it was... Given the war was not that far from home.