Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191211213915/@comment-25828117-20191213223328

As they marched through the corpses and the mud it was like a scene from Oblivion. At one point Abaresk nearly fell which would've caused Helian to come down on a stack of bodies.

They had been there for days. Weeks maybe. The decomposing twisted features and made one painfully aware of the fragility of the human body.

Mages, legionnaires, local militias, mercenaries... All dead. All lost to a war against Mehrunes Dagon. Lysilde prayed that neither him or Molag Bal has come to harvest souls.

Nemicus was silent as they rode. He thought war was foolish and any man that would go to one willingly mad. Now he was just sad. And he wondered if he had pushed Graicus away all those years when he came back from the Karth War. He had not been as understanding as he should have been. Akatosh, did he feel shame now.