Private The World of Worms (18+)

[Sid]

"Eat... Gods... It feels like an eternity since I last eaten. B... But I don't think Whiterun's the best place." Sapling looked in fear at the city, "I dunno, it looks like a shadows been cast on the city. Any city. I think, with your skills," As he said this he made a hand gesture to the others, "We can hunt, and if we find salt, we can keep the meat. Going into a city is a risk I'm not willing to take." During his short speech, Sapling seemed to gain confidence in himself, and pushed for this thought. However the one thing he did know, was that he only trusted slightly was Keyin, but he admitted to riding a troll, so he wasn't too sure on that one.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The khajiit finally revealed herself: Geinhaal, and Sapling suggested going after salt and game to eat. Hunting was good to kill time, make friends, have good stories and obviously get food. But where, how and what to hunt in a province full of flesh ripping undead? "I don't mind the idea of hunting... but what are we exactly expecting to catch? I've seen some mudcrabs, but deer and elk have become a myth... I don't know about you, but for me this troll is the biggest piece of meat I found since the menace begun." Keyin couldn't stare at the living ones for long, having his eyes always turning to the bushes or rolling to beyond the empty trees that gave the forest they were at a grim look. Undead could show up at any moment, and he preferredd dying backstabbed than bitten and becoming one of them.

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With everything at his sight purple, Leepdroon wandered, getting further from Whiterun. A swarm of creepy bats flew in slow motion before his eyes at the creation of an amazed grin in his face. His slow steps leaded to a dead forest, often tripping on a pebble or a plant to slow down. As he got past many purple dead trees that appeared to be throwing insults at him every time he walked against one, he snapped. "Why does Kynareth place trees conveniently where I walk?!" To avoid further conflicts with them, he began avoiding crashing against any vegetable or tree and tried to walk as straight as he could with his brain dipped with sap. Words of hunting, in a comically low tone, which was also to thank the drugs for, rang in his ears. It was Leepdroon's duty to stop any kind of unnecessary hunting, which for a person with such a dislike for mankind meant any kind of hunting. He hid behind the bushes and found a group of living people. In first inspection, well, Leepdroon didn't go very far, only finding out about their races. But on later thoughts, with a lot of steamy effort coming out of his head, his conclusions were that none appeared to be much fond with magic. With something of a strategy inside his mind, he stepped up unsheathing his blade heavily, limbing with the purple effects. "It is my duty as a Guardian to stop you from..." His intentions were purely good for the nature's sake, but the Sap got the best of him and made him fall down and forced him to stay down for a while, to gather strength to get back up.

 

[Felidae]

The Khajiit scratched her nose softly, irritation plain on her face. If Keyin wanted to eat the troll then it was fine by her, but if they thought she was going to be participating in the act then they should think again; the creature might not have been infected but who knew what other diseases it carried, not to mention the taste?
Sapling had suggested hunting, which sounded good but the Nord had already shot it down due to the alarming decline in uninfected wildlife, and that left either the troll or a trip into the city to scavenge any supplies.
Hunting, scavenging or troll. She was spoiled for choice, but if she had to go with any of them it would be scavenging. Hunting was fine if you knew where to look, troll meat for lunch sounded vile but was easy to get hold of given the current situation, and scavenging, whilst low-down and dangerous, was at least somewhat sufficient. But if the group didn't want to go through with it then she couldn't force them, and there was no way she was venturing into the city alone.
Shrugging nonchalantly, she started to reach into her saddlebag to retrieve a chunk of wrapped mudcrab, suddenly realised that the present company would probably not take too kindly to knowing that she had food and wasn't sharing it, so she quickly removed her hand, adjusting the lanyard across her chest to disguise the previous action. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and it didn't help to be charitable.

No sooner had Geinhaal lowered her arm than her sharp feline hearing suddenly picked up the sound of movement not too far away, and her ears pricked as she went on red alert. It wasn't moving on all fours, so either it was a bipedal creature or a person that was approaching them from the shadows. Either way it was probably bad news, as most bipedal creatures were either trolls, werewolves or spriggans, and most people were zombies. As the sound quickly closed in on them, her fingers began to inch towards the crossbow on her back and her eyes narrowed in anticipation.
"It is my duty as a Guardian to stop you from..."
At the sound of the voice Geinhaal spun around lightning-fast, whipping the crossbow from its holder and aiming it in the direction the sound had emanated, breath held to steady her hand. As she watched, a thin Argonian with green scales emerged from the depths of the wilderness and promptly collapsed in front of them, apparently completely spent.
Glancing at the rest of the group with a puzzled expression on her face, Geinhaal slowly approached the newcomer and prodded him with her foot, crossbow still trained on the lizard's head. His eyes looked somewhat watery and had taken on a weird hue, a trait that in most cases was caused by overconsumption of Sleeping Tree Sap, and she grimaced with distaste. She didn't have much respect for druggies, but then again she didn't have much respect for anybody.
"Identify yourself," she snapped, her grip tightening on the weapon's handle. "Well? Spit it out, lizard."
In all honesty he didn't look like he was prepared for a fight, rather he looked like he'd much rather lie down and get some rest, but she wasn't taking any chances. Too many times in the past had she underestimated her opponent and paid the price for her ignorance.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Before Keyin could let anyone know of his opinion, Geinhaal withdrew her crossbow lightning fast and aimed at a lizard that showed up from Talos-knew-where. But he was no ordinary addict... Keyin's years in the Silver Hand had taught him many things, as well as how to spot a lycan at first sight. His eyes remained steady at the argonian's teeth whilhe he gnawed and shrugged at the bitter feeling of the khajiit's prod. His teeth told no lies, the half-fainted tripping argonian was a lycan and a threat. But his teeth weren't the ones he could recognize of a werewolf, but something new... He slowly dragged his crossbow out of it's holder on his back and aimed at the head of the lizard. Silver bolts, a choosy death for a lycanthropic enemy. "Be careful... the argonian's passion for flesh can cause... bloodshed..." His eyes reflected the little light that hit them while he strengthened his arms and massaged the trigger of his crossbow, at the sound of the whisper of his words, awaiting for any of the group to hear them and understand who the lizard truly was.
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The sap had failed him again. Well what was he expecting anyway? Over and over again making the same mistake is an act that no animal even does, then why would Leepdroon do so? A khajiit immediatly gave him the warm welcoming Leepdroon would ever expect from any human: a bitter one. And a nord did the very same thing, but at least didn't speak, only aiming at his head with his crossbow. The shine of the bolt he had yet, made him a little more cautious about his next move. Silver tip, deadlier than fire, would not only kill him but spread his brains all over the khajiit. "That... will hurt like hell." He turned his exhausted stony eyes to the feline that had asked "politely" for an introduction. "Excuse me mister..." On closer sight, she was a woman, just to prolongue the pattern of Leepdroon's habit of committing mistakes in the wrong moment. "Miss! Miss! Sorry..." He let his eyes off the trigger happy khajiit to rest his neck, and faced the ground once again. "I am the only kind of man who isn't happy for finding other survivors. At least from what I know..." As if he were in a position to trade, Leepdroon (somewhat insolently) spit out the following words. "Your turn... introduction." The purple was fading out of his eyes, and his intolerance to pain would soon fade as well. But as he regained his strengths, and awaited an answer from anyone in the group, he began focusing his mind to bind a spirit of one of the nearby trees to the portal he was about to conjure, holding the spell to conjure a spriggan for the right time. "I would call myself a bastard after this... but heck, they outnumber me in any way..."

 

[Snoball]

Eori took all three of the suggestions into account. Keyin's suggestion of eating upon the rooftops would surely keep any wandering undead from meddling in any way, but the time and effort it would take to simply lift a dead troll onto a roof would be too vast, especially for someone was easily worn out as Eori. He liked the thought of having their own kitchen or tavern to themselves, but Geinhaal, as she referred to herself, immediately recalled the possibility of any supplies being present at all. Sapling's suggestion sounded the most interesting to Eori, if only there had been a more abundant amount of fresh meat sources available to them. Another groan of his stomach was enough to make him begin tugging on the dead beat's arm, yet he pulled in no distinct direction, still unsure of where to go. "Well, thinking about it isn't gonna sate my appetite. If ya thought Eori the Hungry was bad, you sure as hell don't wanna meet Eori the Starving." He could only manage a few tugs before the rustling of leaves nearby would grab hold of everyone's attention, and away from dining, again much to Eori's disappointment. Geinhaal was the quickest to react, doing so even before whatever was nearby had presented itself. Instead of reacting swfitly, Eori simply waited until the group was sure of what it was. He was notorious for waiting to the eleventh hour to finally ready himself, but considering he had survived this long, he was clearly doing something right. Within seconds, a ditzy-looking Argonian appeared from the rustling bushes.

"It is my duty as a Guardian to stop you from..."

Falling to the ground, Keyin and Geinhaal were quick to go on the offensive, both aiming their crossbows dead at the hallucinating wanderer's head. Eori chose not to aim his quite yet, depending on how the Argonian chose to explain himself. He looked on at the exchange between them, also taking note of Keyin's warning.

"I am the only kind of man who isn't happy for finding other survivors. At least from what I know... Your turn..."

Eori couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the Argonian's "introduction". He slowly approached the man, still not bothering to unsheathe either of his weapons, but contemplated doing so had the situation gone awry. "Hah, clever and dog-breathed. Not the best combo when being aimed at, though. How about telling us why we should trust ya before taking this little thing we have going here to the next level, pal?"

 

[Felidae]

"Be careful... the argonian's passion for flesh can cause... bloodshed..."

Geinhaal sniffed contemptuously and took a cautious step back, but continued to keep the tip of her crossbow fixed point blank on the side of the lizard's head, ready to pull the trigger if he made any sudden moves. She had sensed the amount of concern in Keyin's warning and thus she wasn't taking any chances, especially now that it had been pointed out that the lizard may actually possess cannibalistic tendencies.
As the mere thought crossed her mind Geinhaal grimaced slightly, despite her best attempts to hide her displeasure. During her years of travel across the frozen realm she had experienced numerous run-ins with cannibals and none of them had been particularly pleasant (although she had noticed that many of them tended to avoid Khajiit if they could help it, maybe because the fur could be a bit of a nuisance or maybe because most Khajiit were just considered too scrawny to be wholly appetizing). In any case, it was still a crime against nature and she felt no remorse in taking the lives of those who practiced it.

As she watched, Eori, with his weapons still sheathed, took his chance to approach and question the lizard himself. For a moment he looked slightly irked at the Argonian's interruption and she could understand his frustration only too well; everyone was feeling the effects of food deprivation, but the Imperial seemed to be affected by it the most. If they didn't get something to eat soon... well, she didn't like to think about having two man-eaters present, although she really didn't think Eori would stoop that low.
But that brought up something else to ponder over; how did Keyin know about the Argonian's tendencies?
When she felt he was looking her way, she fixed the Nord with a quizzical yet suspicious look, interrogating him solely with her eyes. She didn't want to take the whole "it takes one to know one" phrase into literal consideration, but all the same it was important to know whether or not you should be dealing with two freaks when, originally, you were only dealing with the one. If worse came to the worst she wasn't troubled about having to put a bolt through the lizard's head there and then due to her already mounting dislike of him; not because he had mistaken her for a male (admittedly quite a common mistake) but mainly because of the arrogance he displayed despite the fact that he currently had two crossbows aimed at his head, which to her mild amusement Eori happened to point out not a moment later.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

And another merry soul stepped out of the group. A breton this time. "Ugh... Just please tell me you are not one of those Reachmen! It's bad enough to know the bulky Briar Hearts are managing to last longer against the undead..." He sighed, already fed up with the taste of dirt close to his mouth, and also his unability of avoiding it. "Buddy, we don't have any "little thing" here. If you want to know why it's not much of a difference for you to spare me it's because I mostly feed off sap, not just this drug, and netch jelly. At first..." He said that last part a lot more like a whisper, to avoid revealing his true nature. "Secondly, I dislike most humans and now that they are undead, I won't be touchy feely about killing them. And honestly, if it wasn't for my wife, my health would mean nothing to me. It already means little or else I wouldn't have skulked that sap down my throat." Leepdroon leaned on his elbows to avoid getting his armor even dirtier, and to stand a little taller since the difference of the height for man of his size made it quite difficult after a while. "I forgot to tell them my name, or my taproot heart replacement... Ah whatever they will ask for my name again... Plus it's funny to see how far it goes, now that they know how little it means to me." A small idiotic (still in effect of the drugs) smile was drawn in his face, as he now tried to proceed in getting up and rely on his knees. Then his small itch finally broke him. "Could you at least replace that damn bolt, Nord?!" The conjuration spell was more than charged, and had begun glowing in a dangerous mode, which forced him to do his best to cloak the light that would snitch on him.

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The argonian was simply... getting more and more annoying. Began judging Eori the Almost Starving's race and dared to command him. What kind of man issues an order when his own life lies in more than two strangers' hands? The drugs couldn't have such a dreadful effect, which meant the lizard had to be somewhat stupid in nature. Geinhaal eventually understood his warning, as she took a step back after his words were blown out of his dry lips. She then gave him a look that made him skip a beat. It could petrify one for a second! He had no clue about what he had done, and kept aiming the crossbow at the argonian. To gestually ask her what it was that he had done to harm her, he raised his right eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "If life doesn't have worth for him we should just kill him..." The lizard could still be spared, and having a werecrocodile with a grudge against you on your own team would be terrible and the cause of one of their deaths. In that line of thought his only choice was to wait for someone else to suggest killing him, just so that he could say he agreed with it. He stepped forward, patted Eori's shoulder and nodded to him, to encourage his interrogating. Afterall, he had spoken more after his little speech than with anyone else.

 

[Snoball]

Eori wasn't quite fond of the forsworn remark, but like most things, chose to disregard it. He felt they lacked a certain civility to them, even when he himself rarely chooses to behave civil as well. He, just as everyone else, knew that keeping a werewolf alive would mean harboring a trust that it won't eventually harm you down the road. Even though the man's explanation was feasible, past experience had led Eori to be a bit less than humble toward any form of undead. And with the outbreak in full effect, the last thing the group would need is another reason to constantly have to look over their shoulder. With encouragement from Keyin, Eori continued addressing the slowly recovering Argonian.

"Reasonable? Yes. Am I sold? Not quite. A vegetarian werewolf sounds like somethin' out of some crappy, lackluster children's story. But what kind of guy would that make me if I chose to turn down a possible kickass ally?" Though Eori was conflicted, he chose to extend his hand to the Argonian and help him up, but shimmied a bit to the side to give Keyin and Geinhaal a clear shot at him had the situation got ugly. With Eori noticing the man covertly attempting to obscure his other hand, having the others ready to fire at a moment's notice put him a bit at ease. He used the trail of his eyes to communicate with the two, silently pleading with them to stay locked onto him just in case.

"It doesn't take a Telvanni wizard to figure out what happens next if you throw the first punch. Anyhow, a name, buddy. I'm sure you've got one?"

 

[Felidae]

Geinhaal readied herself as Eori reached down to help the lizard onto his feet, her finger flexing impatiently against the trigger of her crossbow. Despite her and Keyin still having a clear shot at the Argonian, she felt that Eori may be being a bit overconfident in his actions; if the creature decided to attack she was sure they could take him down before he could inflict too much damage, but what if he was concealing a poisoned or enchanted weapon?
However, despite his arrogance he didn't look very self-assured and kept glancing worriedly at Keyin's crossbow, specifically at the silver bolt the Nord currently had loaded.
If she'd had her way, Geinhaal would have stuck a bolt in the lizard's scaly head long ago, but Eori also had a point; if the Argonian chose to side with them there was the possibility that they'd have teamed up with a powerful ally who could help them out immensely in the long run, but if he chose to turn on them then it could mean one, or even several, of the team's deaths.
But first there was the challenge of getting him to reveal his name, which Eori saw to immediately after proffering his hand.

"Anyhow, a name, buddy. I'm sure you've got one?"

Geinhaal's brow furrowed in annoyance as she glared at the slumped figure before her. The lizard was obviously not going to comply anytime soon and his stubbornness was quickly beginning to grate on her, but if he wanted to do it the hard way then she was more than happy to oblige him.
Taking a slight intake of breath to steady her hand, Geinhaal suddenly pulled the trigger. With a quiet ping the steel bolt was released from the crossbow's flight-groove and sent speeding towards the crouching Argonian, burying itself deep in the soft ground between his knees and splattering his armour with mud. The bolt quivered slightly where it landed before eventually settling, embedded no further than three inches from the lizard's crotch.
Deliberately slowly, Geinhaal raised her other hand to press down a small lever which turned the cylindrical mechanism on top of the crossbow, quickly fitting the next bolt into place without once lowering the weapon. She couldn't be bothered to ask the man for his name a second time as she doubted he would reveal it anyway; she just hoped that the sudden 'reality check' would help speed up the process.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

In reaction to the breton's costless will to help him get up, UNLIKE anyone else in that damnable group, that annoying conscious feeling everyone had when something nice was made for them striked Leepdroon and consumed him in a way that prevented him from opening the portal to unleash the spriggan and take out as many of them as he could before dying. He stood up, relying on his weak legs and the man's steady arm. Despite being grateful, and the man most surely having noticed his spell being canceled, he didn't want any information revealed so soon, and with sarcastic ideas going dangerously low, his only choice was silence. That was until a bolt from the khajiit flew dangerously close to his only spot that would hilariously hurt him more than anywhere and most likely not kill him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He formed somewhat of a shield with his hands that would never be anything of effective before speaking in despair. "Leepdroon! Heck, my name is Leepdroon..." With a resigned sigh, he glanced around the group, awaiting for whatever choice they would reach and execute, as well as trigger a different choice from him.
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Geinhaal's shot was beautifully comic, and forced Keyin to chuckle, something he seldom liked doing in front of strangers. On the other hand, Eori, who most surely was starving to a whole new level, helped him getting up selflessly which made him somewhat angry for the lizard to be rewarded for his arrogance. After his rushed introduction, thanks to Geinhaal's less friendly approach, Keyin's finger wasn't yet willing to remove itself from the touch of the trigger. Not wanting to give the lycan the right to hear his voice, he nodded to his fellow interrogators to leave the judgement up to them, despite urging for the dumping of the corpse-to-be Leepdroon as soon as possible.

 

[The Phantom]

The Jester took note of all of these rather entertaining new arrivals and their qualities. He also has to suppress a laugh as a young man threw up near the dead troll. The Jester observed silently for a time before deciding that it would be better to speak "Oh look at all of you. I'm so GLAD that so many of you showed up here! I'm not quite sure what you've showed up to but I'm sure it will work out. I hope we'll all get along, after all it'd be such a shame if we ended up killing each other, although it would make for a more entertaining thread..." Although he was going to continue more he decided against it when he caught sight of the "Great Rälaghül" who was pressing a finger against his lip and quickly darted his eyes to the Khajiit.
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The old Elf watched events unfurl from the shadows silently, sizing up all the new people arriving. It seemed to him that these people might be just what he needed to overcome the undead hordes which had taken over this world. Rälaghül knew that first, he had to decide who he could rely upon. Scanning through those who had arrived, he realised that there was one he felt he would have to keep an eye on. A Khajiit who it seemed obvious to him was judging whether or not she could defeat or outrun them, due to the what he thought was an arrogant look on her face he deduced that she believed herself better than him and the others. If he could gain her loyalty she could prove a valuable ally, otherwise she could be dangerous to the group. He signalled to the Jester in a code only they knew, warning him to keep and eye on her. The two assassins knew each other because of a time when they clashed on a previous contract, they then became occasional allies and enemies along with a man known only as, "Bane". Rälaghül decided to give them all one last test "Those who were among the first at this point already know my plan. If you would like to get to the bottom of all of this then meet me at my hideout within the underground sewage system in Solitude. Deep within the labyrinth is a sewer grate with the engraving of the Daedric word for "Purity", through there is the entrance to my city. Now I will leave you with that information. I hope you will all consider my offer, join me and this plague will end!" Upon the last word there was an explosion of smoke and when it had cleared he was gone, without a trace.

 

[Felidae]

Once the Argonian had finally spluttered out his name, 'Leepdroon', Geinhaal slowly lowered her crossbow, the deep-set frown etched upon her patterned face softening slightly but not quite disappearing. She had been expecting him to hold out for at least a little longer, but, like most male individuals, he had given in to his own cowardice the second he realised just how close he had come to losing his manhood. Which was, in his defence, more than enough "inspiration" for any guy in that kind of situation to start talking.
In fact, after taking everything into close consideration, the creature standing before her ought to be grateful for this rare act of mercy, as despite her outward coolness it had actually taken a decent amount of willpower to refrain from aiming an inch or two higher and thus shattering any dreams he once had of ever continuing his wretched bloodline, as she felt the lizard probably deserved. Although... She thought to herself maliciously, her finger curling once again through the trigger-guard of her crossbow, It's not like anyone would care if I actually did put a bolt through his-

"Oh look at all of you. I'm so GLAD that so many of you showed up here!"

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as the Jester chose that particular moment to suddenly speak out of nowhere, almost making her jump in surprise. She hadn't heard him utter a single word since she'd arrived, so to hear him talk now was... kinda weird to say the least. To her despair, what he then went on to say also confirmed her most dreaded suspicion concerning the eccentrically-dressed individual; that he was just as mad as his outfit suggested, which made him unpredictable and therefore particularly dangerous.
But worst of all, she had a horrible feeling that he was going to really get on her nerves (if the bastard didn't end up slitting her throat first in a moment of blind insanity).
Almost in response, the High-Elf, who referred to himself as Rälaghül, then stepped forward and started to outline some sort of obscure task for them to complete, apparently assuming unofficial leadership of the group in the process. Geinhaal listened to him speak in silence, barely batting an eyelid when he finished talking and promptly vanished into thin air with a large puff of smoke.
She had sensed the Elf's gaze on her more than once since her arrival which gave her the impression that he was perhaps a little wary of her, and for good reason, as it wouldn't take a second for her to double-cross the group if it meant the fulfilment of her own personal ambitions, no matter how dangerous it would most likely be. But, for the time being at least, it looked like she was stuck with them.

Sighing quietly, the bounty hunter hefted the saddlebag over her right shoulder and slid her left hand back into its hiding place under her poncho. The Altmer had said to meet him in the maze of tunnels beneath the streets of Solitude on the distant north-west coast, a fair walk away from Whiterun, and the trip would be long and arduous considering the current calamity. But first, they had to make sure that the lizard wasn't going to be a problem in the long run.
Taking a few steps towards Leepdroon, she paused about a foot away and glared venomously into his eyes, a glare filled with spite that seemed to almost challenge the lizard in its audaciousness. She knew that he was untrustworthy, as were most of the others in the group. Hell, she herself was probably more untrustworthy than the lot of them put together, but if the Argonian was going to be traveling with them then he needed to know that if he was going to deceive the group in some way, then he'd be better off leaving her alone. Or the apocalyptic land he was currently inhabiting would seem like Aetherius compared to the world of hurt she'd send him to.
After a few moments, she suddenly broke eye contact with the lizard and retreated to the back of the group, melting into the shadows. She wasn't going to be the one to pass judgement on the Argonian, but if anyone did decide to utilise his services then she was holding them solely accountable for any atrocities the creature could commit, and the Argonian himself would be put down without any negotiation.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Geinhaal lowered her crossbow for the first moments after the lizard's introduction. But her finger wrapped around the trigger of her crossbow caught Keyin's eyes that were well adapt for archery, despite his problem. It was obvious that nobody trusted the lycan, and the very thought of it made him jolly even in the grim time that had been forced inside all of their very hearts. Plus, Leepdroon didn't even know their names, something that by his opinion wouldn't need any change as well. His mind was off the grievous environment until that old elf disappeared in smoke and uttered some words about Solitude. But was the group interested in that sort of self-proclaimed leadership. Keyin would follow any living person in those times, but it wouldn't be just him enough to force that bunch of people to head through such a distance about a vain promisse of an underground city. He had almost forgotten about how the khajiit had never heard the Jester's voice. Her angry look was quite well camouflaged, but seriously, anyone that isn't used to that kind of people would hate that man. Keyin would probably have charged at him for the troll's death if it wasn't for those horrid times. The nord slowly crouched next to his dead mount while putting away his crossbow on his back. Despite having no knives around his waist or in his knapsack, Keyin's silver bolts would be sharp enough to cut through most muscles or nerves of any animal, and so he repeatedly stabbed the troll's shoulder with one of his silver darts. After spilling a little blood, not much since Rigor Mortis was already affecting the corpse, and its circulation would be completely stopped (Keeper Carcette had taught him something about biology and necrology before dying), Keyin had on his right hand a nice troll arm. After handing it to Eori he turned to the group and spoke somewhat loud, so that even Geinhaal, quite isolated, would hear. "Sorry for taking your right of choice, lad, but the arm will have to serve you for a quick meal. So... is our heading Solitude?"

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And so Leepdroon was showed who was boss, again. The group knew his name, he couldn't leave without their approval or else he would have a bolt on his back, or worse, and everyone had seen him chickening out during his interrogation. Perfect. He quickly scanned every damn human that had him trapped, grounded, aimed at, almost-castrated and humiliated. "Okay... What kind of people are we dealing with here... First, that Silver Hand... If I get too far or too close, I get a bolt in my stomach, or worse if he is beginning to get ideas from that khajiit. Then we have the breton, surprisingly the best of them so far, and lucky me... another Cicero... How do I manage to find these people... The kid hasn't spoken yet, making him my favorite so far... And lastly... that khajiit. It's needless to speak about my thoughts about her after her 'hilarious' crotchbow shot. Wait... I forgot about that elf..." He was given no choice but to skip his judging since the man vanquished in smoke and arrogantly assumed the leadership of the group. It wouldn't be Leepdroon even if Kynareth Herself appeared before them and said so, but still, there could be other people leading that perhaps were kinder to him... He turned around to find the khajiit's cold eyes literally obliterating his mind. She was mad at him. No... Mad was that jester. Her hatred was not within Leepdroon's range to measure. Possibly it was his effect on mortal women. That could explain how Goldenleaf had won a bet where he had to allure any woman that was mortal, below spriggan. What a disaster... He smiled remembering that happy time forgetting about the khajiit for a while. Until he woke up again and had to deal with her angry look again. He quickly tried to push his smile backwards and seem serious, most urgently after grinning in a situation like that. Then the Cicero number two saved him from prolonguing that painful embarrassment. He hadn't listened to any of the elf's words and the nord said something about Solitude, from where he had come from, and it took him no time to figure out how much he disliked that idea. But where was his courage to protest? Exactly, it had never existed. The best thing to do would be following and not complaining to that bunch of people whose names were unknown to him, and were preferrably that way for him. But he had a more self-reliant idea. He could simply eat them all and run off back to the Guardians, where he could live merrily the rest of his days, carefree. But to be married and not being able to bed his wife would be too much of a punishment, and the risk of that happening was very high. Leepdroon held one of the few bottles of netch jelly that hadn't been broken while he was on the ground in front of his lips, thinking carefully about his next moves. If anyone saw him, he could just say it was sap from the Sleeping Tree. After seeing him like that, it was impossible that they didn't believe he was willing to drink another whole bottle of drugs. "I don't want Golden to become a widow, I don't want to be back without being able to please Golden, that is IF I pleased her, I want all these idiots to die... What to do...?"

 

[Felidae]

The Khajiit watched silently as Keyin knelt down by the troll's corpse and started to hack at its arm with one of his silver bolts, slicing swiftly through the tough sinew and muscle with apparent ease. Eventually the hairy limb came free accompanied by the grisly sound of tearing flesh, and a second later Keyin was standing triumphantly with a large chunk of bloody troll meat clasped in his hand, which he proceeded to hand to Eori before turning to face the rest of the group. It was a rather generous portion considering the essentiality of rationing, but the Imperial looked like he needed it, and she wasn't going to be asking for some anyway. As Eori accepted the arm from Keyin, the gnawing hunger she felt seemed to intensify a little, but she managed to refrain from seizing any provisions from her saddle-bag. Instead, she chose to focus on Keyin as he addressed the group in a vain attempt to ignore it.

"So... is our heading Solitude?"

Solitude... one of the few cities Geinhaal thought might stand a chance against the inexorability of the Undead hordes, but was also one of the most populated. If somehow the Infection had found its way inside Solitude, the city would be a packed to the battlements with bloodthirsty, half-decomposed guards and townspeople. But if the city remained untouched by the evil then it would serve as a perfect stronghold, so long as all exits to the city remained locked and bolted...
Geinhaal scuffed her boot dismally in the soil, mulling over whether or not following Rälaghül's advice was a particularly good idea. Not only was the city a potential deathtrap, but the journey there would take a while considering how dangerous the roads were. Heck, she'd taken a big risk traveling from Riften, but to approach Solitude meant that it was necessary to cross the tundra that covered a sizeable portion of Whiterun Hold; a large, barren stretch of land at Skyrim's centre that was fairly flat and offered little in the way of refuge, but she heavily doubted that there would be much in the way of opposition apart from the odd sabre cat or pack of wolves (although she had heard rumours of Undead giants that roamed the plains, still tending to their herds of Undead mammoths). However, what concerned her the most was having to pass by the small settlements that stood in the way of their destination, such as Rorikstead and Dragon Bridge. Being populated yet vulnerable places they would have most-likely attracted the attention of Undead creatures that would normally have shied away from the urbanisation, and could therefore be two Undead hotspots that were best avoided.

Frowning, Geinhaal turned to look at the vast expanse of wilderness that lay ahead of them, at the mud-splattered road that wound its way through the tundra before disappearing into the mist, and she tugged apprehensively on one of her ear-hoops. She wasn't looking forward to the journey they were about to undertake, but if she wanted to seek a permanent escape from the madness that engulfed the land then it looked like she had no real choice in the matter. It was that or the mountains, and there was no way she was living the rest of her life as a hermit. She was a wanderer, a nomad, and the prospect of being cooped up in one area for years on end was a fate worse than death, at least by the Khajiit's standards.
She then took a moment to glance at the rest of the group. It was true that she didn't trust any of them in the slightest, and she doubted that she ever would, but despite herself she couldn't help but feel strangely reassured in their company. They were a motley bunch, and despite the odd exception in the group she felt that she wouldn't end up clashing with anybody in the near future, so long as they kept their distance and didn't try to order her around.
As if on cue, the "exception" chose this particular moment to chug from his bottle of what was presumably Sleeping Tree Sap, and Geinhaal shot him a resentful glare. Things would have been a lot more easy if the Argonian had simply kept on his way and not decided to interfere with the group's affairs, but as it was he'd decided to stick his slimy snout in business that should otherwise have nothing to do with him. And not only that, but he thought that he had the right to stand there and actually take drugs in plain sight of everyone else? Selfish bastard.
As he raised the bottle to his lips Geinhaal's inner spite made her act before she could think, and the next second her left hand, still clutching the crossbow's handle, suddenly materialised from underneath the folds of her poncho. With the weapon still positioned at her hip she fired once, the steel bolt passing straight through the glass and embedding itself in a nearby tree trunk, the bottle promptly exploding in Leepdroon's hand and showering both the Argonian and the ground in purple liquid. The whole process took less than a second, and as she slowly slotted another bolt into the flight-groove the Khajiit couldn't help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction from putting the lizard in his place a second time.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

"... yes, I must drink it!" A fraction of a second before Leepdroon moved his lips towards the bottle, a powerful bolt bursted through the bottle and made him, unavoidably, let out a girlish scream. "Dagh!" The jelly that was all over his now tightened wet armor had all gone to waste, giving him little more than just a small boost in his strength. Making an inhuman effort to keep his calm and not spit a bunch of curse words, Leepdroon clutched his fists, counted to ten in his mind and after manning his voice up to make up for that embarrassing scream, he spoke to the khajiit. "I... was going to drink that..." His hands still beared the broken bottle, dripping some jelly, which in its turn fled through the dirt inside the land. Without his jelly, and understanding he wouldn't be able to drink anything purple with the khajiit around, Leepdroon's eyes scouted the environment quickly for something to eat that wouldn't raise much concern. There was a big, strong tree behind that insane jester. The sap inside it had to be tasty, and it would definitely sate his appetite. After another sigh, he moved between the survivors, one by one, and only when he got away enough to avoid raising an allarming ammount of suspicions, Leepdroon finally took out a dagger. No time for hesitations, or else the knife would also end up shot out of his hands, so he just made a shallow cut in the trunk, pushed an empty sap bottle against the wound he had just created, and tried to whistle (unsuccessfully) while it was slowly filled. Then he pressed the palm of his hand against the bark until resin came out of the cut, solidified and the tree was parcially cured. He had the sap, and there was no time for hesitations, once again. Leepdroon quickly skulked the whole golden drink and swallowed it quickly, throwing away the bottle afterwards. A few seconds later, his veins would be highlighted by the sap, glowing in a green, horrifying (for those who wouldn't be used to it), luster. On the left side of his chest, the brightness was more concentrated, taking the shape of his heart. "Ugh... forgot about that..." A few minutes later, the beautiful effect wore off, meaning the end of his non-narcotic sap digestion. Since it was one of his lucky days, he didn't end up stabbed or shot before that. To him, that didn't matter much. Death seemed an unavoidable obstacle, and as they walked, it appeared to only get bigger and bigger. But who knew? Since the headsman's axe was buried in Helgen before his soft neck had been harmed by it, Leepdroon had managed to postpone his death for very long. Perhaps he could make it delay to after the plague was dealt with...

-------------------------------------------------

Keyin was already treading on the dirty, tiring path to Solitude when the unmistakable sound of a firing crossbow caught his ears. Geinhaal had shot again. And at the lizard for the second time, too. First an intimidating miss on purpose and then the bottle breaking shot. She was a fine archer. And if it was to prevent the lizard from drunkness, better. But still, he sensed she didn't trust anyone in the odd group, and that she was only helping because most surely she felt it was her duty to mankind. After that analysis, Keyin could as well roll his eyes on the rest of the group. The Jester's behavior was very suspicious in his good will of going to Solitude. If he didn't put any argument to the idea, then it meant he trusted that old elf. Or, in other words, they were acquainted. Sapling hadn't spoken since Leepdroon interrupted their feast, but was very young, which somehow made Keyin feel an urge to protect him from harm. It was needless to say he disliked the argonian, and felt good about having Eori fed now, and before he could think about Ralaghul, Leepdroon took out a knife, drank something and finally, began shining like a spriggan. "What the...?!" Although he seemed like a threat, after a few moments that annoying thing stopped. Keyin still had no idea what that was but it took no genius to know it wasn't normal, and if it weren't for the plague, Leepdroon, as well as the Jester, would have already a bolt through his skull. "Freak..." While insulting the argonian with as many insults as he could think of in his head, Keyin heard the screams and winches of undead. A horde was nearby. He didn't want to assume or steal leadership from the group, but he didn't want to become a half eaten zombie either. It was clear that between those two options, dying was worse. After adjusting his voice to a friednlier one, to avoid looking bossy, Keyin looked at the road and spoke to the group, avoiding eye contact. "We should move faster..."

 

[The Phantom]

As the Khajiit shot a bolt through the Argonian's bottle the Jester let out a shrill laugh as Leepdroon screamed. He turned to Geinhaal and said "Oh hehe. I think I'll like you!" Of course he really knew he wouldn't be able to "like" or get along with any of them. By the way they looked at him he thought they thought him insane! Me? Insane? Madness is merry and merriments might! And let's hope Ralaghuls right and end this blight! He thought to himself. The Argonian then proceeded to stick a knife in a tree and drink the sap. On second thoughts perhaps there is someone nearly as strange as me. Him I might get along with. Oooh and now he's glowing hehe. The Jester's thoughts were however interrupted by Keyin who said "We should move faster..." He turned and both saw and heard the undead moving towards them. The Jester raised an eyebrow, confused as to how a horde that large had managed to get so close unnoticed. Quickly, he picked out the knives from the dead troll and flung them each into three different zombies. Without even checking if the others were going to Solitude or not he turned and ran down the road. He was moving relatively fast but was confident that the others would be able to catch up. After running a suitable distance of which he knew the the horde was no longer capable of following him, the Jester collapsed on the floor with a sigh. He at least knew that if the group were capable of following him and had the sense to heed Ralaghuls orders then they would be worthy allies.

 

[Sid]

(Sorry for short post, couldn't think of anything else to write)
"By Anu... Solitude... Home...." Sapling kept muttering this over and over again as he ran to catch up with the rest of the group. The smallest sound startled him from his trance. Suddenly he tripped, legs entangled by a vine like object. He fell to the ground crying out. He landed in a sprawled on the ground, legs bound by the vine. "Help!!! Help!!! Someone please help..."

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Where there was danger, there was no Leepdroon. The argonian ran off quickly while the glow in his veins slowly wore out. The kid fell in the roots, just like what is expected from people at that age. "Natural selection! Leave the wounded behind!" He ran until he accidentally came across that jester who had killed three of the unded before making the wisest choice. Leepdroon avoided eye contact and just sighed, as he gathered his stamina back often checking on him when he wasn't looking. Somehow, his time with Cicero seemed to have paid up enough for him to be off better dealing with him than anyone else...
----------------------------------------
It didn't take long for the lizard to run off shining when facing a dangerous situation. Keyin immediatly fired a bolt through one of the zombies' eyes, making it burst through its skull as well. He was just about to fire another and climb onto a tree to unleash hell on those forsaken creatures, but the kid... "Help!!! Help!!! Someone please help..." Keyin stopped and turned around as the mangled undead slowly approached him. "Damn it..." He seemed to be trapped on some sort of root or vine. Were the plants undead and evil too? He repeatedly stabbed the tangled plant with a bolt until there was only a small string of a vine trapping the kid. He then shot it with the crossbow and helped him to get up. "Run! I'll be right behind..." His hatred popped above his sense of security. The horrible picture of having his parents dead before Draugr warriors kept flashing through his eyes. After a savage roar, he turned around to the horde and fired four more bolts, each hitting the enemy heads, except for the last which, thanks for the slight lowering of his crossbow. He climbed the tree with the help of his claws and scouted the area with his eyes for the one who seemed most competent. "Where is Geinhaal?!"

 

[Felidae]

As the Undead horde slowly started to advance on the group, Geinhaal cursed herself inwardly. If she had focused more on what was going on around them instead of taking it upon herself to harass that damn lizard, she probably could have detected their presence. But now the Infected had got the jump on them, and as the Jester took to his feet with Leepdroon hot on his heels, Geinhaal reluctantly turned to face the horde.
When the Undead were dealt with individually they usually weren't too difficult to take down (so long as you avoided their teeth), but when they were part of a horde they all moved and acted like one vast, irresistible being, and this particular horde was no exception. Silhouetted against the ghostly blue light that now encased the mob as a whole, they resembled a single solid black mass moving across the tundra, and judging by the amount of Infected they'd probably came all the way from Whiterun.

Raising her crossbow to her hip, Geinhaal squeezed the trigger three consecutive times whilst her other hand repeatedly slammed down on the lever, and a second later three Undead collapsed into the mud as the bolts found their marks. Before the corpses had even hit the ground, she ripped an air-sabre from the bandolier on her chest and flung hard it into the face of a fourth, the force of the throw almost taking his head off. But it seemed that for every zombie that was killed another six seemed to take his place, each one lurching obstinately through the mire towards their intended victims, saliva and blood cascading from their gaping, rotted maws. It seemed that resisting the horde's advancement was going to be futile, and would only lead to an her inevitable doom if she attempted to do so.
As one of her bolts embedded itself in the chest of a zombie, only for the abomination to climb back to its feet and continue to stagger towards her, Geinhaal cursed again and started to jog backwards, firing off several more bolts and occasionally tossing the odd shuriken. She soon passed by the writhing form of Sapling, kicking off a stray vine as it ensnared her ankle before quickly concealing herself behind a rock, trying to block out the kid's screams. She wasn't ready to turn tail and flee just yet, but she also wasn't going to stupidly risk her life to save someone who was really none of her concern; in Geinhaal's books, "survival of the fittest" was something that just had to be accepted in a land as perilous as Skyrim.

But even as she watched, Keyin, his crossbow discharging silver bolts into the heads of several nearby zombies, suddenly appeared by the trapped Sapling and started to cut him free from the plant's tendrils. She somewhat admired his courage but at the same time couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed by the Nord's foolish actions; he was a good fighter and a valuable asset to the group, so to see him risk his life when they needed him alive irritated her. She would have to remember to have a quick word with him about it at some point.
Once the boy was free, Keyin turned and scooted up the trunk of a nearby tree with the aid of his unusual hand garments, and began to scan the area from its branches. "Where is Geinhaal?!"
Striding over to Sapling, the Khajiit seized his collar and shoved him aggressively in the direction of the road and away from the Undead, prompting him to run, before turning and quickly firing off a few more bolts into the horde. "I'm fine," she called back, whilst turning to follow the rest of the group. "Just see to getting yourself out of there, okay?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Leepdroon noticed the elvish kid coming, as well as the khajiit and the breton, but no sign of the nord. For a purely pessimistic person, he immediatly deduced he was part of the undead, and a feeling of satisfaction quickly flourished in his head. He was in no position to choose what to do, but he could predict they would be headed to Solitude instead of delaying their departure for the unlikely await for a miraculous return of that nord archer. Leepdroon looked satisfied to the way forward and took a deep breath, expecting someone of the now smaller group to take the plunge and say something about getting the hell out of there.
------------------------------------
Now that he knew Geinhaal was okay, he was free to fire at will without the risk of friendly fire. "Just see to getting yourself out of there, okay?" Keyin shook his head and waved. "I'll try..." The horde was endless! Brains were launched in the air from the impact of Keyin's bolts from above, and rained down on the bloody walking dead. One of the thinnest of the abominations was trying to climb the tree, which only resulted in its claws damaging the bark. Keyin grabbed its trembling undead hand and nailed it cruelly to the tree with a silver bolt. He had crucified hundreds of vampires that way, none had survived more than an hour and most fainted the moment that the silver pierced through their skin. But those didn't look like the ordinary undead. The anomaly simply shrieked and tried desperately to remove the bolt from its hand. Without any success, it simply ripped its own arm to free itself, as if the pain couldn't increase anymore. The severed arm, to the horror of the Silver Hand, continued to move and was slowly climbing the tree. Although there were no teeth in its hand, Keyin wasn't sure of what it was capable and decided to grab it and throw it to the horde afterwards. They were too many. It would be a waste of efforts and bolts to keep fighting. Keyin sorrowfully reached the conclusion that he had to run away. He looked around the tree for the area with least undead, and after concluding it was the one closest to the road, he jumped, landed on a zed with his bear paws and punched it repeatedly until its jaw was swinging in a thin string of muscle. Then it was all in the hands of his feet. He had to run, and so he did, often aiming at the fastest of the undead that pursued him in their four legs, whose head was very hard to spot. Unless they were hit on the head, they would simply stand back up and keep running or walking or whatever it was called that they did. "What the hell...?!" One of them got close enough to jump on him and tried to bite his neck. The Dawnguard warrior put a bolt between its jaws and pulled the lower one down. "C'mon, open up!" Once its mouth was open beyond what used to be humanly possible, Keyin raised his crossbow with his left hand and fired a bolt down its throat. He got tired surprisingly quickly, but had managed to lose most of the horde. Keyin noticed a new wound below his fur armor. It wasn't made by teeth, but by claws of that thing which had just attacked him. His flesh that was near the wound, mostly in the abdomen, was becoming pale, dead. He quickly skulked a potion to cure whatever foul disease he was contracting, but the only effect if had was stopping the rest of his body from becoming undead. His abdomen was, unrefutably and by all means, undead. Luckily it couldn't cause any harm. The group could already be seen, possibly thanks to Leepdroon and Sapling who had them delayed. At first he tried to hide his wound, but the blood had spread too quickly around his armor for that. He simply gave up and caught up with them. Among sighs of exhaustion, and still some pain from his new wound, he spoke. "So... are we... heading to Solitude...?" Like most men who didn't want to look weak, he tried to avoid complaining, but the pain forced him to massage the wound repeatedly, even when he walked.