Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26245872-20141126032139/@comment-25127382-20141203154059

Setsuna was tired of her idle strolling around the Imperial city. She had smelt bloody coming from the north-west for quite a while. (My supernatural creatures and their BS OP senses.)

One teleport later, and Setsuna found herself in a low area, surrounded by mountains... and Orsimer.

Setsuna drew her katana with her left hand, the crimson Daedric sygils glowing clearly, Seht-Iya-Neht. The nails on her right hand began to blacken, extend, and sharpen. Next, Setsuna was reaping with both blade, claw and fangs, left and right, back and forth. She was doing whatever she wanted, ripping open whatever she liked, stomachs, throats, skulls. Setsuna had become a spinning whirlwind of grotesque beauty.

(We keep cockblocking Karonor, we are such douches!)

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Lucien was keeping track of his 'lethal weapon'. A moment ago, it had found itself in Cyrodiil, but now it had teleported into the middle of the fray in Orsinium. Perhaps the blade would become stronger from the fight, if it was indeed possible for it to become stronger.

(I'm still waiting for Lucien to get the 'Father of the Era' award.)