Split (1)

train · 180k rows

text stringlengths 0 41.4k
"I doubt that even in the Underdark there are many who have experienced what I have. Beaten, branded, whipped, cut and broken. Each night I would be dropped into the slave pens as a toy for their desires, and every morning and evening my body would be made anew so that I was prepared for more hours of punishment. I do not know how long it went on for, it could have been years for all I know. I tried fighting back, begging for mercy, hiding and even letting them do to me whatever they wanted. Every day was some new creative means of punishing me and time no longer held any meaning."
"How did you escape?"
She laughed for a second, before choking back a sob of pure emotion. The diamond hard personality was struggling for control now and emotions bubbled to the surface. "I didn’t."
Breathing out heavily she composed herself again, staring up into the sky and releasing the bear-trap like grip on my hand as she smoothed her hair back under her headband. "Lloth came to me one evening as I was left in a latrine pit. She was taunting, gloating. Telling me how she was no longer amused at my captors’ poor attempts to break me and had decided that a more suitable punishment was called for. She would gift me with my freedom, far from Menzoberranzan and far beyond the borders of the Drow city-states. I was to be set loose, exiled and cast far from anything and everything I knew."
"And so you found yourself on the surface."
"Indeed. This was to be my punishment, my unending curse to be trapped on the surface and cast adrift on the whims of those who believe to be my betters. To find myself burned during the day and hunted during the night. An unwanted stranger in a society inconceivably different to anything I had known. Everything that has happened to me since finding myself on the surface had been intended to be further punishment and torture of a subtler kind. Lloth intended on this being a cruel penance never before experienced by any of my kind. Since finding myself in that cell and being released into your care it has left me confused and unsure."
"Because I don’t beat and torture you?"
Her eyes were serious again, no trace of the turmoil of emotions that had been here moments previously. "Because you treat me as an equal and are always fair in your dealings with me. There is nothing that you ask of me without providing something equal in return, and for that I thank you."
We had gravitated closer together as she told me her story and she was now almost as close to me as when I had carried her from the Mythic Dawn’s shrine. Hesitantly I had somehow found my hand resting on her shoulders, feeling the interwoven links of chainmail and the slight quiver coursing through the flesh underneath. The smell of her sweat, her hair and her flesh was intoxicating and I found myself being lost in her eyes as she looked at me. For a moment it felt like we were drawing closer together, our mutual heat beginning to merge in the evening sun until a voice called out the doorway of the chapterhouse.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
Both Viconia and I pulled apart as though struck, twisting around and there was the look of annoyance on Viconia’s face that matched my own.
Opening the chapterhouse door from the inside a tall Breton came out into the courtyard and glanced between us. Seeing our expressions and the sudden haste as we moved apart he suddenly looked horrified, raising his hands in apology and giving a smile.
"I’m sorry for interrupting. I was looking to see if anyone was at home."
"Well, we are." Viconia stated with venom and a hint of indignation filling her voice.
"I’m not intruding am I?" he stood there hesitantly, neither moving closer or further away while giving both of us equal amounts of his attention.
"It’s fine." I replied, suddenly feeling weary and rubbing at my temple and the soreness of my jaw where Viconia had kicked me earlier. "How can we help?"
"I was just looking for someone to let them know that I had arrived and that I was going to stay the night. I’m an associate of sorts to the guild and I’ve found that it doesn’t pay to be rude."
I raised an eyebrow and he flushed slightly, looking at me directly "Speaking of which, introductions are in order. I’m Threnodir Melainis."
He grinned at us both, performing an elegant bow of a highborn noble from Highrock. "Adventurer, mercenary and Vampire Hunter."
Both Viconia and I stood in shook, staring at the middle-aged Breton as he rose from his bow. At first glance there was nothing about him that revealed him as a vampire hunter. His armour was sturdy, but commonplace among many within the guild. His clothes were well-worn and his weapons, while slightly unusual wouldn’t have rated a second glance from anyone. A thick coat of brigandine armour, studded with rivets locking the underlying steel plates under the leather outer surface protected his torso. Thick and unyielding, the bevor and collar arrangement of metal and softened leather covered every scrap of flesh from his jaw to his collarbone, and was the sturdiest piece of his equipment. It was a piece of armour that wouldn’t have appeared out of place on an armoured knight wearing a sallet or burgonet helm, but other than a simple padded coif of thick leather he was almost bareheaded.
Both forearms were covered with solid steel vambraces, heavily battered from much close combat fighting and a pair of swords clung to both hips. One was a common steel rapier and the other an exquisitely forged longsword inlaid with silver. No shield or other protection was carried, but over his shoulder and attached to the travelling bag slung over his back was a shortened crossbow with pull-crank for rapid reloading and a quiver full of bolts.
I did note that he was armed for more than just the usual assortment of foes that a member of the Guild or a travelling adventurer might face. Pouches filled with various bottles and other items were clad around his waist in similar fashion to my own, and a bandolier of knives were arrayed up his chest with their hilts pointing down on an angle for quick drawing. The thin leaf shapes of their blades and the loops in the end of the hilts revealed them to be throwing daggers of considerable make, especially with the gleaming hint of silver making itself visible inside the scabbards. A chain of silvery metal was rolled up neatly alongside his rapier and I could somehow tell through my enhanced senses that a handful of the tiny bottles within easy grip were filled with a manner of powders and ingredients that were various poisons mixed with silver shavings.
He detected the sudden wariness from the both of us, his well experienced eyes seeing my sudden nervousness and the way that Viconia had instinctively dropped her hand to the hilt of Dragonbane at his announcement. Eyes narrowing for the moment he stopped in place, flashed a winning smile through a heavily waxed moustache before raising both hands again to allay our obvious concern.
"Please, don’t be too worried. I may kill for coin on occasion but unless either of you are of the undead you have nothing to fear."
Carefully I returned the smile, Viconia staring at him dangerously while removing her hand from where it had begun tightening around the hilt of her sword. At that very moment I was thankful that we had been practicing outdoors in the sun otherwise our reactions may have been a little too suspicious for him if we had been indoors in the shadows.
His smile was rakish and disarming, with his natural charisma being almost as deadly as the swords on his hips. "I get this sort of reaction wherever I travel. Comes with the job description I’m afraid."
"I’m Kaius." I said simply, thumping my fist against my armoured breastplate while Viconia continued staring at him.
"Viconia DeVir." She added, not making any movement, friendly or otherwise.
For a moment he seemed to be deep in thought, before clapping his hands together and briskly shaking my hand. "By Arkay, the heroes of Kvatch? I had heard you had joined the Guild but I never actually expected to encounter you in my travels."
"We’re here for a few more days at least, until we’re called elsewhere, or the contracts dry up."
"Excellent. Here I was concerned about having to spend my time here in terrible company and even worse surroundings. But now at least I have found myself granted exceptional luck." His smile was contagious and I found myself returning it honestly. "I don’t suppose it is too much to join you for dinner or for a glass or two of wine? In my travels I had managed to procure a bottle of Shadowbanish Wine and I fear it is a beast I am incapable of slaying on my own."
Viconia’s expression was impassive but she gave me a mild shrug when I looked over to her. Whatever moment we had pass between us had been snuffed out with this Hunter’s arrival and I doubted that it or something similar would appear for the days to come.
With our introductions over after a brief chat the three of us went about our separate ways for the following hours. Viconia and I went to the chapterhouse’s bath and showers, revelling in the cold water sluicing through the city’s plumbing that allowed us to wash off the various collection of sweat, grime and blood from our training. Threnodir went about the process of finding a bunk to sleep for the night, unloading what few items he had carried with him in a collection of saddlebags and making himself comfortable and settled in for his short stay. After the few short hours of cleaning ourselves and preforming basic maintenance on our equipment the three of us ended up spending the evening together, telling stories and swapping tales of our exploits. Threnodir was highly accomplished, an expert with sword and crossbow and had made it his mission in life to hunt vampires.
Appearing little more than a powdered dandy in his doublet and finely made silken trousers and riding boots he was nonetheless a match for many in the Blades in both skill and ability. Experienced fighting creatures faster, stronger and tougher than normal mortals he had the scars to prove it and from the look of some of the scars that covered his arms and face I knew that he had also been a duellist back in faraway Highrock. Every aspect of his persona had been tailored specifically to hunt the creatures of the darkness and shadows, from the silver inlaid longsword, to the pouches and bottles containing everything from silver flakes to scrolls of banishment and a crossbow small enough to reload quickly but powerful enough to fire quickly and still punch through armour.
We told him stories of Kvatch, and our more recent encounter with the Minotaurs of Nonunaglo to which he was thoroughly impressed. He told us of the times he had hunted vampire covens in nearly every corner of Tamriel, from the far north of Skyrim on the borders of the sea of ghosts to the more magically adept beasts within the jewelled cities of the Summerset Isles. There was little land in Tamriel that had not left dirt clinging to his boots and I knew that it was men like him that would be my greatest of enemies if my true nature was discovered.
"So, what brings you all the way to Skingrad?" Viconia asked after he finished a tale of how he had returned to Wayrest to hunt a creature posing as one of the Nobles in the city.
"No hunt this time I’m afraid. In my travels I have heard of a weapon of great power against the bloodsuckers and my research and contacts have led me to believe that it resides somewhere in County Skingrad, or possibly in nearby County Glenvar."
"A weapon?" I refilled our glasses with more of the rich ruby liquid that I struggled not to think of as blood. The Wine was of an excellent vintage and the bottle alone was worth a considerable amount of money.
Once more his trademark smile broke through and creased his goatee. "Have you ever heard of the tale of Maergalla and the Light of Dawn?"
Both of us looked blankly at the hunter and he laughed. "Not many have unfortunately. The ultimate vampire slayer and his magnificent blade has been lost to the ages. I’m hoping to find it and put it back into use slaying the fiends."
"What sort of weapon is it?" Viconia’s eyes were suddenly light with interest as we listened to the hunter.
"A sword, easily the length of a claymore or zweihander but curved like an akaviri katana. It’s is rumoured to be sharp enough to cut through anything but that isn’t what interests me."
"What does then?" the wine seemed to be filling my veins now with the alcoholic buzz and I knew that he had been watching how I had only been sipping on the wine. So far it appeared that he believed that I mostly abstaining due to my martial nature rather than keeping up my guard.
"As the legends of the blade go, when it comes into contact with the corrupted blood of a vampire the blade shines as bright as the sun. In effect you cut one vampire with it, and all the others around it will be killed or at least wounded by the light."
"Sounds fanciful to me." Viconia’s voice was filled with considerable scorn but she remained listening to him.
"That it does, but most of the research I have undertaken makes me believe that there is at least a tiny amount of truth in the old tales. Some of the writing state that the Light of Dawn was forged by Telvanni wizard-lords in the second era but I believe it was made by the ancient Ayleids before the Alessian rebellions. Either way, the creators had something of a vampire plague going through the land and needed great weapons to combat against them. Their greatest of metalsmiths came together, acquired an enormous piece of Skymetal and imbued it with the power of Great Welkynd Stones. As the tale goes it was forged only at day, held with spells so that only the light of the noonday sun touched the blade during its construction and quenched it in water infused with the essence of Varla Stones. Only the Nine knows the truth in the tales or accuracy but I have also found information that although other weapons of similar make were fashioned, this particular blade was the pinnacle of their arts and skills."
"They forged other weapons as well?"
"Oh yes my dear. A collection of similar swords were forged, but they were smaller in size due the lack of suitable skymetal available at the time. There are no hints of how many were made or even what they looked like, but I’d assume that they would look similar to other elven blades from that period in history. These other swords were to be the children of the dawn, and with them and the Light of Dawn they were able to save their lands from the undead menace."
"And here you find yourself, seeking this legendary sword?"
"Indeed. My... Contact... in the castle assures me that it is south east of here and I intent on finding it."
I raised my glass filled with ruby red wine. "A toast to your success then."
Viconia watched with interest as Threnodir and I clinked our glasses together before doing the same with hers. We continued talking through the early hours of the night and after we retired to our respective rooms I felt less on edge having such an individual resting a short distance down the hall. For over an hour I had quizzed him on his knowledge of vampiric lore, confirming most of what I had learned and learning a handful of techniques that would be of benefit if I faced any of my kind again.
When I asked him on whether vampires could exist in sunlight he outright denied the existence of such an ability, and no craft or enchantment was known or ever rumoured of throughout all his travels. The dozens of creatures had slew had never shown any affinity to sunlight and there wasn’t even the slightest hint of such a thing being possible. It made me feel better in the fact that my secret would be easier to keep, but at the same time it worried me as I had no idea or clue of what sort of being I was or was becoming. This was a path that none before me had been known to travel and there was no telling what lay at the end of such a road.
Our time in Skingrad was coming to an end and other than another two days of roaming the streets and training between ourselves there was little more for us to do. Other members of the guild began to arrive the morning after Threnodir’s arrival, the word of how poor some of the members were in ability and suitability having reached the ears of Modryn and Vilena. Soon the halls were beginning to feel full once more and not as abandoned as what they had the weeks previously. Within a day of the arrival of over a dozen other fighters, the few who had accompanied us to the village and failed to assist with the Minotaurs had completely vanished. Some had been forcibly relocated to other cities under more watchful eyes of guild seniors, while others had taken pages from Maglir’s book and had openly deserted the guild and their responsibilities.
Threnodir stayed only a single night and until the late afternoon of the following day. While pleasant and charming he was not the sort of individual I wished to remain within close proximity. Although I was honestly saddened to see him bid his farewells I was also glad not to keep my guard up anymore. My discussions with him had proven fruitful in uncovering more of my own nature and working out better ways to keep myself hidden from society but he had been a clear reminder what fate awaited me if I was ever caught out.
Viconia and I returned to our usual routines and so did the noticeable distance that we placed between each other, both in a physical and emotional sense. While closer than what we had ever been and beginning to relax to the point of flirting and teasing each other from time to time there was still the obvious barriers between us that had regrown slightly since Threnodir had announced himself in the training yard.
Early in the morning on the 19th of Sun’s Dusk we departed the city, weaving our way through the rolling vineyards and wineries that seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon. Between Skingrad and Kvatch the Empire’s wines were made in almost industrial quantities and while some wineries were famous throughout Tamriel there were many unnamed vintages that were indistinguishable to their fellows. After travelling for hours and still not leaving the sprawling fields of vine trestles I could fully understand where the old saying of "being as difficult as finding a sober man in Skingrad" had come from. If it wasn’t for the finely maintained aqueduct and fountain systems in the city, wine would’ve been easier, and cheaper to drink.
It was nearly a full week’s journey from Skingrad to Anvil, a long, bone wearyingly distance that took us through the deserted and burned region around Kvatch. The lush vine filled floodplains of County Skingrad eventually shifted into the rolling and rocky vista of the Kvatch plateaus, filling the land with barely harvested wheat fields and cattle farms that were noticeably bare. Most locals had decided to travel away from the blasted ruins of what was once a proud city on top it’s spire of stone. The smell of destruction still lingered over the area almost like the fine layer of ash and soot that had long since washed into the grasses and shrubs in the weeks since the siege. Although the ruins still stabbed into the sky like a broken, rotted molar there was obvious signs of life tenaciously holding onto existence and carving their lives into what little remained.
What was once a populous trading city in a prime strategic location was a blasted husk like a cracked open tomb, but it would not remain that way for long. From every direction in the opposite of the original exodus of refugees; newcomers from throughout the Empire were making their way to the destroyed city with the promise of a new beginnings. In a steady trickle, dozens made their way there every day, and we found ourselves following the stream of trading caravans and colonists making their way to Kvatch.
Halfway through our journey we stayed overnight in the ruins, being made welcome by the hundreds squatting in fire blasted homes and businesses that had been reclaimed from the devastation. Our identities were impossible to be kept secret and within minutes both Viconia and I were reconsidering staying in the city overnight as once again we found ourselves the centre of attention in a steadily growing celebration. Within hours of our arrival, alcohol was flowing freely and music began to echo through the rubble and deserted streets and we found ourselves the toast of the few thousands who were making this city their home. The central plaza in front of the Cathedral of Akatosh was the ad hoc central district of the city, and at any time the senior representatives of the city and the Legion could be found in their respective headquarters.
Titus Mede; the young centurion whose cohort I had fought with in the retaking of the city was the senior officer and now commanded two full cohorts who were permanently stationed in the city for the foreseeable future. He and his men immediately made Viconia and I welcome and it wasn’t long before the grizzled Savlian Matius made his appearance as well. These two men were now the most powerful individuals in the county. Centurion Mede was the highest-ranking representative of the Legion since his Legate’s departure for County Anvil, and Savlain Matius by the decree of the Elder Council had been made Count until such time as they found a more suitable replacement. From what little conversations on the subject I had overheard it appeared that there were no nobles rising to the challenge to claim the shattered and burned city and the weakened county as their own. As a result, the ex-guard commander was left in a semi-permanent seat on the elder council, a signet ring hanging from the leather strap tied around his neck and the full weight and responsibility of a city that still stank of fire and sulphur.
The celebration would continue into the early hours of the morning. What surprised us however was that it was apparently a daily occurrence for those undertaking the lengthy reclamation process of the city to party late into the night. All of those who had chosen to stay and the hundreds arriving every week would work from sunrise to sunset, demolishing ruins, and scavenging what they could before spending the evening drinking and celebrating life in all its forms. The level of death and destruction that surrounded everyone meant that the only two choices they had was to fall into the pit of bottomless despair, or instead find some reason to continue with their lives. Reports of other cities such as Ald’Rhun suffering similar fates only seemed to galvanise them further in their efforts to reclaim and rebuild and every day another street or building would be cleared, and scaffolds stabbed into the sky in random growths of wood and metal. Against all odds in a city where nine tenths of the population had died or fled and only one building out of every eight was still suitable for habitation, those who remained were making it their personal duties to scorn the daedra with every fresh brick laid into mortar.
I found myself surrounded by Savlian Matius, Titus Mede and a handful of legionaries dressed in labourers clothing for the early hours of darkness, sharing pints of freshly brewed mead and beer. Somehow against all odds a single brewery had miraculously made it through the siege intact and had been responsible for ensuring that a large portion of the population were nursing hangovers every morning. Between the small group of us we had a healthy amount of alcohol to share between ourselves where one of the legionaries sat astride a barrel of mead, and it would be rare that our flagons would run dry.
Viconia had initially disappeared, choosing her own company over that of myself and the hard-bitten soldiers of the Empire. It wasn’t long until I caught glimpses of her threading her way through the throng of dancers filling the plaza and causing the ground to spasm slightly in tune to the music. Over a dozen bards and musicians were playing enthusiastically, some in small groups where their voices and instruments played in sync, and others either directly competing against their fellows or providing individual tunes to the crowds. While our group sung along to whatever songs we knew or simply pounded our knees or feet into the ground to the beat I found myself entranced at the sight of my companion actively taking part in the growing numbers of dancers. She wore a flowing dress similar to the one that she habitually wore in Skingrad but this one was less revealing due to the cooler temperatures of the plateau.
Strikingly lovely in the flickering torchlight, she danced and twirled with her elfin agility and outperformed professional dancers as she lost herself to the crowds and music that throbbed in the darkness. Each twirl and spin was perfect and I caught glimpses of smooth ebony flesh where the dress rose up and showed a substantial amount of her toned legs. From several metres away, the scars and old wounds were unnoticeable in the flickering light and it was obvious from the looks and increasing catcalls and whistles that I wasn’t the only one taking notice.
"You might want to pick up your jaw there lad." Savlian murmured through a raised flagon, choking with mirth as he saw my expression.
The legionaries around me laughed and at least one hand left a stinging slap across my shoulder blades. I felt almost at home amongst these men and it was strangely enough to make me feel homesick for fort Ironhand.
"I think it’d be better if I stopped looking instead." I replied, twirling my skinning dagger in my fingers in a rippling motion that one of the nearby legionaries seemed more entranced in watching. "She’s like staring at the sun; after a while you’ll end up blinded."
There were further laughs from the group, especially how they knew that the statement was surprisingly accurate with her personality. Titus and I knocked our flagons together and knocked back further mouthfuls of potent brew but it was obvious that both of us were watching how much we consumed. While technically a superior officer he was obviously not one for remaining aloof from his men, and could be found deep in the shieldwall, working alongside his men with his sleeves rolled up or keeping up with even the hardest of drinkers. He was very close to my own age, but handled himself like a forty-year veteran and had the utter support of those under his command.
"You have to be the luckiest bastard in the world to have her." he said simply, grinning and swaying only the very slightest.
"We travel together and watch each other’s backs." My response was honest, and I again felt the strange clench of yearning deep in my belly. "We aren’t "together’ as such."
One of the legionaries looked over to me with a look of surprise plastered over his face. "I would question whether you had balls," he slurred drunkenly, rolling his head between me and the sight of Viconia stirring the desire of every hot-blooded male in the crowd. "But anyone who willingly steps into Oblivion is no craven."
"Maybe she just needs a real man?" another spoke up, even more drunk than his brother-in-arms.
"If you think you are real enough, you can be my guest." My reply seemed to hang in the air for a few minutes as they all looked at me in shock but they hadn’t seen what I had. Ever since she had started dancing a few drunk individuals had been gravitating towards her, each building the courage to approach the gorgeous drow and all completely blind to the threat that such actions posed.
I snorted into my mead as one grabbed her from behind in what he must’ve thought was a sure-fire way to win her over, his hands grasping in all the wrong places. There was a moment of shock that rippled through those closest to the two of them, accompanied by various hoots and snickers of amusement from the onlookers both in the crowd and where I was seated.
For Viconia’s part there was the slightest moment where she froze at the intrusion of the man’s hands against her body but with a twirl she turned around to face him, staring into his eyes almost as though they were lovers of many years. There was a smile on her face as she wrapped an arm around his neck, sensually moving her body in time with the music and for a moment the rushing waves of jealousy nearly made me rise to my feet until I saw the look in her eyes.
The stupefied expression of lust and success on the young man’s face was suddenly and violently removed as she rammed her forehead into his nose and twisting and jamming knees and fists into various parts of his anatomy. In less than a second he had gone from staring into her eyes, to flopping on the ground with a silent scream of agony, mouth gaping open and closed like a beached fish and unable to decide which damaged part of his body to grasp at. Instead he chose to curl into the fetal position, soaking himself in the sudden expanding pool of vomit as he voided the contents of his stomach.
Myself and every other male who witnessed her reaction winced and quite a few of us instinctively clutched at ourselves protectively. The groper remained on the ground, those around him stepping away from his prone form and from Viconia’s obvious anger. She twisted away from the groaning individual, stepping over him like he was excrement on the stonework of the plaza and strode over to where I was seated with fury radiating from her like an aura.
With a grin I looked over to the legionary and nodded in her direction. "You want to try?"
He shook his head definitively and I laughed as she stomped over, ignoring the looks that she was receiving the entire way. I didn’t say a word, instead reaching over to the barrel, refilling my flagon and handing it over to her.
"Why must everyone test my patience?" she asked as she sat down heavily on a barrel and knocked back a mouthful of mead.
"The world is full of idiots." Savlian replied, leaning back and grinning. "Although the Nine in their infinite wisdom have decided to spread them throughout the lands to ensure that we encounter a few every day."
There was a muted laughter from the group as they all thought of what she had just done to the fool who grabbed her. It was highly likely that it would be the last time that individual did anything similar for the rest of his life after nearly being castrated by her.
"So what awaits you both in Anvil?" Titus tossed over a spare flagon that I caught neatly and refilled.
"Guild business with the fighters. We’re travelling between cities and doing what we can."
"Hopefully nothing as exciting as the last time you both found yourselves in Kvatch."
"Hunting Minotaurs and goblins is somewhat quieter than fighting daedra." Viconia’s expression was dark as she stared daggers in the direction of the twirling crowds.
A legionary raised his mead in a toast. "I heard of your successful hunt. That was rather impressive."
"You heard about that already?" I glanced over my shoulder to where he too another mouthful before wiping his mouth on the back of a dusty sleeve.
"Indeed. Killing a minotaur titan? That sort of news travels fast."
"Unfortunately, bad news seemed to travel faster." Savlian replied soberly. "There is a lot of bad news as of late."
"Daedric invasions and cities burned to the ground. Banditry of the rise and provinces being wracked with unrest and insurrection."
"And everywhere the Legion stands idle." Titus’ expression was sombre as he placed his flagon on the ground. "Not that every trouble can be solved by throwing the legion at it."
"Like what happened in Anvil."
My ears picked up at the sudden tone of voice from the legionary and I looked over the small group as they looked disheartened, some making various signs of the Nine with their free hands.
"What happened in Anvil?" I asked, seeing Titus and Savlian glance between themselves and me.
"News arrived this morning." Savlian said briefly. "Apparently the Cathedral in Anvil was attacked. Casualties were heavy, and no one knows who was responsible or why it happened."
Titus had his sword out now was idly spinning the blade with the point on the stones at his feet. The tiny chiming of metal was audible over the increasingly boisterous crowds. "All the priests, the acolytes and anyone else present were apparently slaughtered like cattle and the shrine to Dibella was desecrated. By the time the guard arrived everyone was dead."
"And no one saw a thing." The shrug that Titus gave me was half hearted and about the only time he had appeared unsure of anything. "Personally, it stinks of daedra but it doesn’t fit in with all this."
He gestured with an open hand to the ruins and I nodded. "Well, it definitely sounds like that we’ll be keeping ourselves busy there in any case."

Subsets and Splits

No community queries yet

The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.