Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20141206001340/@comment-3293219-20141223202102

The Dunmer turned around, somewhat startled by Elana's mutterings but he eventually calmed down and relaxed again, remembering a time where she always had nightmares, some of them probably qualified a night terrors. Azarath eventually looked up and saw a mirror, on the far side of the room, the Dunmer had to double take as he hardly recognised himself from afar.

He looked down before pulling himself to his feet and wandering over to his reflection, hoping to get a better look at it. As he saw himself, he couldn't help but stare, haunted at the pitiable skelaton that he had become. All of the muscle on his body had deteriorated to nothing at this point and as a result, his face looked very thin in comparison.

He slowly unbuckled the top half of his armour and let his shirt slide off of his shoulders and fall to the floor with a thud, he was practically buried inside it, like a child in their parent's clothes. He could practically count every one of his ribs as they showed through perfectly and though he wasn't hungry or weak he did feel... fragile...

A feeling that he didn't exactly cherish...