Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26446054-20160304212929/@comment-10197675-20160318215743

(You don't have to listen to the track, not even sure if it blends well, but what the hell, thought it sounded cool) The Nord sat upon the stump patiently, his eyes were fixed upon the track outside of the Inn, they would pick up anyone who would walk by and scout them, to see if it was him. The flow of the river near Vengarl almost settled him as he quarrelled with himself upon how he’d commit this kill. A bolt in the back or an up close and personal stab through the stomach, however this would be no easy task, the Nord was already having second thoughts, but he had to commit now, no matter how difficult it may be. As the Nord was deliberating upon the matter of how he’d kill his father, he noticed an old man appear from the Inn, wobbling and straying onto the path, a Glass dagger strapped to his chest… Vengarl quickly rose to his feet and drew his crossbow without thinking, aiming it at the man, but he then quickly lowered it as he realised this was his father he was about to shoot, the Nord would have to do this more personally and not in a public place. Vengarl kept low to the ground as he sneaked around from the mill and crossed over the river. He tailed the old man who gradually made his way back towards his house with a cautious crook following him.

The old man opened the door and timidly closed it before walking over to sit down beside the open fire of his home. He then started to grumble and moan as picked a piece of bread from a small basket next to the fire, “Damn Inn, nothing but queer folk in there nowadays, damned people don’t show no respect for retired old guards like me, ones who once kept their milk drinking ass’s safe for so long…” The man’s rambling was suddenly cut, as he heard a couple of loud thuds at his door, before a brief pause and then another set of louder thuds smashing upon the door’s centre. The man got up and groaned as the knocks continued, almost turning into smashes, “YOU’RE GONNA KNOCK THE BLOODY DOOR DOWN” the old man shouted as he opened the door ready to complain to whoever was on the other side. But to his shock he was grabbed and pushed back into the house and over onto the floorboards. The door was then slammed shut and a tall hooded figure turned and came over towards the old and feeble man, who attempted to scurry backwards towards the fire to grab his old guardsmen sword that stood up next to it and he did manage to, but his grasp upon the sword was swiftly lost as he was picked up from the floor and flung across into the wall beside the door to his house. The old man was then pinned up against the wall by the hooded figure who held a sword up to his targets stomach. The hooded man spoke with an angered, yet rather quiet voice, but the old man could tell that he was struggling to keep some emotions back. “What is my name!” Vengarl spoke fast without breathing. The old man struggled and replied with worry in his voice, “I don’t know… please don’t kill me…!” Vengarl then shrugged his hood down from his head, before putting more force upon the sword which slowly ripped into his father’s stomach as blood started to then drain. Vengarl then questioned his father once again, shouting this time as a tear rolled down his face, “What is my name, father!” The sword embedded further and further into the old man as more blood rushed from the fatal wound. “Vengarl… my son… I… I don’t understand… AGH!” The old man struggled to speak as the sword now passed straight through his stomach and out his back. Vengarl snarled as he then pulled the sword back out his father’s stomach and released him onto the ground, “Don’t think poorly of me father, I’m afraid, alone, a murderer treading within your home!” he spat his voice trembling. The old man wheezed as he rolled onto the ground struggling to catch a breath or even say a word. And not before too long the old man struggled no more as he painfully passed and lay silent and blooded, and Vengarl he was gone from the scene running south towards Falkreath with panic and regret storming his mind, questions were raised and answers weren’t met, the Nord struggled as he just kept running trying to figure out whether what he had just done was right…

