Skyrimosity
Well-Known Member
Dagvar looked out onto the horizon, where the monumental Fort Greymoor dominated the landscape. It was an older structure, deteriorated much from its glory days where it protected Whiterun. Well, Whiterun was in no need of protection anymore. A pile of stones needs no protection. Instead, Fort Greymoor would have to serve a new purpose. Protecting the survivors. Survival is what life has been about since the Draugr attacked. Cities were a result of luxury, of a time when abundance was the chief deity of most. That time was past. Now it is a time of survival, and groups of people with complementary skills are the necessity of the time.
He looked around at the group which lay before him; he had assembled them all by mere coincidence. It seemed to Dagvar that as soon as he got a first companion that the others came by naturally. Now there were eight people, nine counting himself. He considered it merely coincidence that their numbers aligned so perfectly with the Divines, yet he had to admit it may him pray a bit more than had ever been his normal.
Fort Greymoor is a promise. Dagvar promised survival and safety, and the only reasonable place is Fort Greymoor. The fort is out of the way of most major roads -- at least enough to where their presence would only be noticeable due to smoke-- and has plains surrounding it. Plains allowed eyesight to see the draugr approaching. And a draugr that is seen, is a draugr that can be killed. And a draugr that is unseen, is behind you. At least, that's what Dagvar has convinced himself. That's also the reason he has developed a habit of quickly turning around and glancing over his shoulder.
The sun drew ever lower. He looked at himself for a second. Leather armor, steel sword, hide shield. He was not a formidable warrior by any means, but he can at least hold his own in battle. He has a bow and quiver on his back as well, though he is so inept at its use that it cannot be considered an asset. No, the group had a Bosmer Archer now. Solenne. She will be much more able to hunt with a bow than Dagvar. Yet, although Dagvar sincerely hoped the group would be a permanent fixture, he could not simply abandon the bow. It was a bad scenario if he had to use it, but it was a worse scenario if he had to use it and didn't have it.
It was now dark. The last flickers of sunlight were no more, and the only light remaining was that of the campfire. It seemed to suit the overall situation very well that it was so extremely cloudy. Dagvar had to keep watch for half the night; Guryon would keep watch for the other half. Guryon was among the newest members of the group, although none of the members had been around for long. He seemed like he wanted to prove himself, perhaps thinking that the group had existed long before him and that its members were close friends who doubted each new arrival. It's funny how wrong such an interpretation would be. Truly, none of the group really held the authority to deny any person. It was simply hoped that each new member would have a unique skill to contribute.
He didn't know if he was the leader; how could one assert leadership among such a loose coalition? What authority did Dagvar have to tell anyone to do anything, as a leader must do? He may have formed the group, but he figured that he would not be able to tell others what to do. Instead, decisions would have to be made by the group. And even then there was the possibility that there would be dissenters. And the dissenters could leave, and that could doom them all.
Still, as his watch began, Dagvar felt certain each of these people could contribute. They could survive. Though Draugr overran Skyrim, and perhaps all of Nirn, perhaps they would find safety. Dagvar hoped they slept well. Tomorrow, they attacked Fort Greymoor. He did not know how many Draugr awaited, but he grimaced at the thought.
He looked around at the group which lay before him; he had assembled them all by mere coincidence. It seemed to Dagvar that as soon as he got a first companion that the others came by naturally. Now there were eight people, nine counting himself. He considered it merely coincidence that their numbers aligned so perfectly with the Divines, yet he had to admit it may him pray a bit more than had ever been his normal.
Fort Greymoor is a promise. Dagvar promised survival and safety, and the only reasonable place is Fort Greymoor. The fort is out of the way of most major roads -- at least enough to where their presence would only be noticeable due to smoke-- and has plains surrounding it. Plains allowed eyesight to see the draugr approaching. And a draugr that is seen, is a draugr that can be killed. And a draugr that is unseen, is behind you. At least, that's what Dagvar has convinced himself. That's also the reason he has developed a habit of quickly turning around and glancing over his shoulder.
The sun drew ever lower. He looked at himself for a second. Leather armor, steel sword, hide shield. He was not a formidable warrior by any means, but he can at least hold his own in battle. He has a bow and quiver on his back as well, though he is so inept at its use that it cannot be considered an asset. No, the group had a Bosmer Archer now. Solenne. She will be much more able to hunt with a bow than Dagvar. Yet, although Dagvar sincerely hoped the group would be a permanent fixture, he could not simply abandon the bow. It was a bad scenario if he had to use it, but it was a worse scenario if he had to use it and didn't have it.
It was now dark. The last flickers of sunlight were no more, and the only light remaining was that of the campfire. It seemed to suit the overall situation very well that it was so extremely cloudy. Dagvar had to keep watch for half the night; Guryon would keep watch for the other half. Guryon was among the newest members of the group, although none of the members had been around for long. He seemed like he wanted to prove himself, perhaps thinking that the group had existed long before him and that its members were close friends who doubted each new arrival. It's funny how wrong such an interpretation would be. Truly, none of the group really held the authority to deny any person. It was simply hoped that each new member would have a unique skill to contribute.
He didn't know if he was the leader; how could one assert leadership among such a loose coalition? What authority did Dagvar have to tell anyone to do anything, as a leader must do? He may have formed the group, but he figured that he would not be able to tell others what to do. Instead, decisions would have to be made by the group. And even then there was the possibility that there would be dissenters. And the dissenters could leave, and that could doom them all.
Still, as his watch began, Dagvar felt certain each of these people could contribute. They could survive. Though Draugr overran Skyrim, and perhaps all of Nirn, perhaps they would find safety. Dagvar hoped they slept well. Tomorrow, they attacked Fort Greymoor. He did not know how many Draugr awaited, but he grimaced at the thought.