Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20150620140931/@comment-5614539-20150624201345

Prometheus walked through the ashen wasteland slowly, his staff tapping on the ground. Tip-tap, tip-tap. A maddening sound, he thought, but he had to get far enoug North. He remembered a time, written in stories, when the Red Mountain of Vardenfall, right on the edge of the horizon to his right, was the only cataclysmic threat Tamriel faced. But no longer.

He set to building a small shelter in the ruins of a once proud and mighty fort, now turned into crumbling stones. The ground was tinged purple from... something, but Prometheus did not care to know.