Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20141207202844/@comment-24760123-20141207225249

(This might be my longest post yet!)

On the balcony attached to his bedroom in Fort Duskguard, the legate stood, debating the merits of defecting to the Adamantine Empire. On one hand, he would be able to get back at the Beaumatic Empire for destroying Mournhold, but on the other, he would be considered a traitor in his hometown of Windhelm.

The Legionnares downstairs were prepared to march to Windhelm, for they had received word of a impending attack. His assistant, a Nord originating from Solitude approached him.

"Sir, we are ready. We will march when you command."

The legate turned around.

"Very good. Tell me, Orgnar, what do you think of magic?"

The Nord seemed surprised by this question.

"Sir?"

The legate sighed.

"I said, what do you think of magic?"

The Nord thought for a second.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Permission given."

The Nord sighed.

"In all honesty, sir, I believe that magic has some merit, but sometimes a steel blade accomplishes in a second that which magic can do in a minute."

The legate nodded.

"A valid answer. Thank you. Tell the Legion to be ready to march as soon as I come downstairs."

"Very well, sir."

Ulysses Thundercaller walked back into his bedroom. He looked at the backpack in the corner. He would not use it, not this time. The legate went downstairs.