JClarke1953
Well-Known Member
I was in the Castle Dawnguard, having returned with Serana from killing an imposter Bard, and a nearby camp of Stormcloaks. Silly them, they don't seem to understand they should go home.
While I slept on one of the cots, I heard a rough, grating voice. It belonged to a mean looking Org named Mogrul. He was faintly visible in my dream, a bully, strong arming the weaker for coin on a..a, can't make out the place...seems unfamiliar. I awaken in the night and walk the halls in the Castle, wondering.
Then I hear that grating voice again! I turn! It's him! Mogrul! Before I know it we're in a silent battle, but it's quick, silent and deadly. The Orc is dead before he hits the stone floor! I strip his body, then put it behind some bales of hay where the Skeever's can clean his bones.
But where had I seen him? Will I see him again? The figures he was tormenting, Elves? A dark skin, like those I'd seen in Windhelm, my friend in the Riften square. Or was it all just a dream, and I killed him for....?
Three strangely garbed people attacked us on our way back to Riften! They didn't last very long, Serana & I together, unbeatable, fighting as one as the blood spray lands on our skin. We get back home and rest. In the morning we'll take the cart to Windhelm, the piece of paper on one of the attackers leading me, us, to Solstheim.
Strangely, the Captain is fearful of taking us there, his memory hazy, unsure, yet I paid him double to take us! We have to discover who this Mirrak is. And why his hatred, his apparent fear of my birthright. Of being Dragonborn!
While I slept on one of the cots, I heard a rough, grating voice. It belonged to a mean looking Org named Mogrul. He was faintly visible in my dream, a bully, strong arming the weaker for coin on a..a, can't make out the place...seems unfamiliar. I awaken in the night and walk the halls in the Castle, wondering.
Then I hear that grating voice again! I turn! It's him! Mogrul! Before I know it we're in a silent battle, but it's quick, silent and deadly. The Orc is dead before he hits the stone floor! I strip his body, then put it behind some bales of hay where the Skeever's can clean his bones.
But where had I seen him? Will I see him again? The figures he was tormenting, Elves? A dark skin, like those I'd seen in Windhelm, my friend in the Riften square. Or was it all just a dream, and I killed him for....?
Three strangely garbed people attacked us on our way back to Riften! They didn't last very long, Serana & I together, unbeatable, fighting as one as the blood spray lands on our skin. We get back home and rest. In the morning we'll take the cart to Windhelm, the piece of paper on one of the attackers leading me, us, to Solstheim.
Strangely, the Captain is fearful of taking us there, his memory hazy, unsure, yet I paid him double to take us! We have to discover who this Mirrak is. And why his hatred, his apparent fear of my birthright. Of being Dragonborn!
