1. Welcome to Skyrim Forums! Register now to participate using the 'Sign Up' button on the right. You may now register with your Facebook or Steam account!
    Dismiss Notice
  2. Hey there, and welcome to our roleplaying section. Please take some time to read two of these useful resources below, if you're already a roleplaying expert, then there's no need to read the following beginner's guide, but be sure to read the rules.

    Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
    Dismiss Notice

18+ Rise of the Draugr

Discussion in 'Archived Stories' started by Skyrimosity, Feb 13, 2014.

  1. Skyrimosity

    Skyrimosity Fine Southern Gentleman

    Joined:
    Dec 20, 2011
    Messages:
    2,786
    Likes Received:
    1,218
    Reputation:
    644
    In Skyrim, while the Imperials and Stormcloaks continued their civil war, something was happening within the Ancient Nordic Tombs and Ruins. While a few Draugr had always patrolled their homes, something different began to happen. All the Draugr began to rise up, their life restored. Nobody paid any mind to this at first as bandits were the main ones getting killed. The Draugr all-across Skyrim rose to their feet after their long sleep and took up arms once more.

    Then, on a day that did not seem unlike any other, the Draugr poured out of their ancient resting places. All over Skyrim, the Draugr began to devastate every area they went to. Realizing that they could not defeat the vast numbers of Draugr, the Legion quickly panicked and returned to Cyrodiil, worried for the safety of their homeland. Those Nords that had been in the Legion stayed behind, but could not get organized into any single force. The disorganized forces tried to fight the Draugr but when the situation lost all hope they returned to their homes, seeking to ensure the survival of their families. The Stormcloaks realized they could not respond to the threat for all of Skyrim and sought to turn Windhelm into an impenetrable fortress. The success of their endeavor is unknown.

    No one understands why the Draugr changed behavior so suddenly; why they went from patrolling their ancient crypts to wreaking havoc upon Skyrim. No one has been able to investigate the cause. The next guess is as good as the last; the most highly educated guess as good as the guess of any commoner.

    In only one month, Skyrim was in ruins. The holds, with no dominant military presence, could not defend themselves and many citizens were killed by the Draugr. The Draugr, upon defeating all enemies they can see, have been seen to feast upon the bodies those they had killed. The survivors were forced to the countryside, surviving in a variety of ways. Some became hunters, others became looters, and some became bandits. Many more still attempted to altogether hide, to go in a cave and wait out the Apocalypse until foreign aid arrives.

    Survivors come in a variety of forms and a variety of backgrounds. Who are you, and what's your story?


    Members
    Skyrimosity
    Melee
    Irish
    Skies
    Dradin
    CapObvious
    AS88

    Epic Keith
    [​IMG]
     
    • Like Like x 2
  2. Skyrimosity

    Skyrimosity Fine Southern Gentleman

    Joined:
    Dec 20, 2011
    Messages:
    2,786
    Likes Received:
    1,218
    Reputation:
    644
    In the plains near Whiterun, Dagvar was following a large deer he had seen moments before. He walked, rather silent in his light armor though not really sneaking, with his hunting bow in his right hand holding an arrow in his left hand. The plains had of Whiterun had been providing him for the twenty or so days since the Draugr had attacked. He still remembered being at his job in The Drunken Huntsman when he heard of their coming out of Bleak Falls Barrow. It didn't seem like it would be so bad at the time.

    But the Draugr came out of their homes all across Tamriel. Within days of their appearance, the Imperial Legion announced a withdraw. Rumors of similar things happening in Cyrodiil were spread but there was no evidence to support such claims. The entirety of Skyrim was in chaos, and the Stormcloaks withdrew to Windhelm. There was no military presence besides the guards to defend the holds from the Draugr. Those who were smart got out of the cities.

    Dagvar recalled hastily scrambling together his things, grabbing his steel sword, leather shield, hunting bow, some food, and already having been wearing his light leather armor. He begged Anoriath to come with him, but he was determined to go down with his store. That was the last, so far, he had heard from him. He held little hope that he was alive.

    The large deer came into site. It was feeding on some class. Dagvar put the arrow on the bowstring and drew it back. He steadied his aim, and let the arrow fly at the large deer. For a brief second afterwards he thought of how many meals could be had from the deer. His hopes high, he watched the arrow near his target. Slowly it got closer. He watched as the arrow flew over the dear somewhere into the distance. The deer ran quickly away, having heard the arrow pass over it. Dagvar knew he would not get the deer anytime soon.

    Angered at his lack of skill with the bow, he walked over to retrieve his arrow. He recognized where the deer had been standing and he found his arrow a good 20 meters away from the deer. It had soared over it. Footsteps. Dagvar quickly turned around, suspecting they had been from behind him. He saw one of them. One of the Draugr.

    "Come on and face me!" he yelled. He would let the Draugr come to him instead of charging at the Draugr. He had, by now, put up his bow and readied his sword and shield. The Draugr, with his war ax in hand, let out some sort of yell before charging at Dagvar.

    Dagvar dodged the blow and bashed the Draugr in the face with his shield. The monster staggered back. Dagvar then charged it, stabbing his sword through the creature's exposed neck. For once, he had been kind of happy to see a Draugr. It helped him work off some of his anger. Suddenly, Dagvar heard more footsteps. They were coming from behind him. He turned to see six Draugr, who must've ran over to help their comrade when he had let out his yell.

    "By the Nine!" Dagvar mumbled, before shouting "Help!" The Draugr charged him, and he back-pedaled. The advancing Draugr would be too hard for him to stop. He blocked the attack of the two lead Draugr before turning. He started to run. He had a lead on the Draugr, but it would not get any larger. Dagvar had never been much of a runner. "Help! Help! If you can hear me, HELP!"
     
    • Like Like x 5
  3. Dradin

    Dradin Tribunal Temple Acolyte

    Joined:
    Jan 13, 2013
    Messages:
    371
    Likes Received:
    239
    Reputation:
    270
    Faleyn watched with anticipation as the draugr stumbled across the plain. His palm crackled with the sound of electricity, it barely lighting his way across the plain. He noticed it's movements as it excited hobbled across the tundra, it howling ancient squeals in the process. By Hircine, it's found food...

    Food. It had been three days since the Reachman's last meal. If it has seen food, there must be some nearby. The sparks in the mage's hand grew more intense as he sprinted in the direction of the monster, hoping to beat the fiend to it's meal.

    "Help! Help! If you can hear me, HELP!" Faleyn paused for a moment, startled by the sudden voice. He had not heard a person's voice in weeks, and the mere concept that he was not alone anymore excited the almost-feral man. You hear that! There was no response. To an outsider, it would be quite clear that Faleyn was indeed, insane. Yes, I know. People. We love people...

    The man's screams were getting more frantic now. The sudden shrieks broke the odd man out of his trance and sent him running down the hill in anger. Sparks flared from his hands at the frantic draugr, the sheer energy incapacitating some of the walking dead. The others now turned towards him, their eyes in a deep blood-lust. "Stay away from my friend!"

    The Reachman stopped for a moment, his eyes widening in fear. Damn! Maybe I just alerted more... Sure enough, he was right and soon more came tumbling down the hill, this time intent on devouring them both. "OH pl***!"
     
    • Like Like x 3
  4. Seanu Reaves

    Seanu Reaves The Shogun of Gaming

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2012
    Messages:
    3,016
    Likes Received:
    1,089
    Reputation:
    1,884
    A man walked down the cobbled road that weaved through Whiterun hold. He was not a large man, in fact one could take him for a bulky elf from a distance. His garb was simple and well wove, though the black coloring made the man stand out from the natural colors of the plains. His boots going up to his shins seemed indecisive as to if they should be slapping gladly against the road or silently as if to hide its master’s presence. He had a small sack slung over his shoulder, like a hunter carrying his kill to be skinned and butchered. I like how that sounds, he thought with a laugh and a smile. Like a hunter carrying his bounty home. He smiled and set down the large sack, fishing through a bag draped across his chest, pulling out a book and charcoal.

    “After negotiations with a small collection of would be bandits fell into all out combat, we find Wineblade trudging along the empty road. A sack of food and other necessities draped across his back. Flung over his shoulder like a victorious hunter, returning home with his kill…” Vergilious said out loud as he wrote. His thoughts of what to add to his little saga were cut short when he heard some very excited and fearful yelling over the hills. The question is, Vergilious thought. Do I really care to help?

    Then he heard a spell being thrown, one that crackled like lightning. Draugr, Vergilious recollected. Seemingly due to their undead nature use only frost based magic. That I suppose is a good sign. Then he heard the cursing, and let out a laugh. That was the surest sign of life, Vergilious joked to himself. And began walking towards the noise. With his right hand still holding onto the sack of food, Vergilious let the left bringing a bottle of Alto Wine to his lips for a small sip. He decided to stop with a small sip since he decided he would need his wits about him. That and fighting utterly drunk was a last-resort at best.


    Dropping into a crouch, Vergilious moved up and over the hill. He saw a Nord fleeing a pack of about draugr. Disgraceful, Vergilious thought his memory of the Nords he knew from the companions still very present in his mind. And a mage that got a few free strikes in with spells attracted the attention of the three or four draugr still standing. Though it looks like that mage attracted a few more, the Imperial man thought as he saw more appear behind the mage. He turned violently as he heard a noise behind him and saw a draugr, war ax middle of its arc towards his skull. Vergilious could only get out one deadpan word. "Lovely….”

    As he twisted, using the sack's momentum and mass to knock back his shambling foe. Vergil then let go of his supply sack, letting it roll to a stop a few feet away, and drew his finely crafted Skyforge steel sword and dagger. With the sword in his right hand, Vergil led his stance with his right foot. Pushing off his left foot, which jutted out at a ninety degree angle from his undead opponent, Vergil lunged forward at the off balanced foe. His swords wide point planting itself in between the draugr's collarbones. His opponent tried to raise its ax for another strike but Vergil used his swords point like a lever, bending his arm as he came forward, to rotate the draugrs body taking away most of the rotational force of its attempted blow away.

    He was soon to close for the Draugr to land a solid hit with its ax, though it still crashed down onto his shoulder. This stung a little, but this was part of the reason Vergil relied on his Alto Wine to dull the pain of not wearing any armor. Like a snake, Vergil punched out with his sword arm pushing the draugr just far enough back he could bring his dagger up with a full uppercut. The dagger punched through the leathery skin of the draugr and Vergil held it up until the blue light left the undead Nord's eyes. Thank the Eight, Vergil swore. That it was only one, let me see how those others are doing.
     
    • Like Like x 5
  5. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

    Joined:
    Feb 11, 2012
    Messages:
    1,598
    Likes Received:
    633
    Reputation:
    445
    Skyrim had always been a quiet place. Even in in the larger cities like Solitude and Markarth, the shouts of vendors advertising their wares and the rhythmic clanging of blacksmiths toiling at their forge were such a large part of everyone's daily lives that they were soothing and comforting. They were a sign that everything was as it should be, what everyone was accustomed to.

    Currently however, the quiet went much deeper than the natural emptiness that accompanied the plains and forests of Skyrim. The Draugr resurrection that had taken place created a wasteland that was seemingly void of life aside from the animals commonly found roaming the wilds. Everyone who had lived in a city tried escaping to the country, when they experienced first hand how easily the draugr could wipe them out when they were penned inside by massive stone walls. The world seemed to have fallen into a strange sort of chaos. The world was not burning, or being torn apart by clashing armies. It was a slow, quiet descent into nothing.

    Nothing was exactly what Solenne saw as she looked over the lands just outside of Whiterun, crouching at the top of a large cluster of rocks. She both loved and hated areas like this for hunting. While she enjoyed the vast openness and lack of cover for the challenges it presented, it was not something she wanted at the moment. No cover mean visibility, and in these times, visibility meant that you were vulnerable to attack from all sides. Visibility was a double-edged sword. Keeping a relaxed but sturdy grip on the bow and arrow hanging at her side, Solenne squinted slightly and scanned the surrounding area impassively. There was a small group of Draugr ambling around the crest of a hill in the distance, far enough away the she was comfortable taking her eyes off them for a few seconds. Smaller groups dotted the landscape, but thankfully they were farther away and did not notice Solenne's perch.

    A quick movement to her left drew her attention back to the group closest to her location. A deer had been spooked by something flying toward it and was running in her general direction. Raising her bow, Solenne focused on the deer and pulled her arm back just in time to see a man walking her way as well. She froze, watching closely as he bent down to pull an arrow out of the ground; it was clear to see that he was frustrated, even from this distance, and was new to hunting with a bow. She shouldered her bow and ducked behind one of the larger rock croppings, staying hidden from view but still able to make out what he was doing.

    What the man didn't know was that there were draugr close by. At first, only one attacked, moving toward the man with its odd, lilting run, weapon raised high in the air as it charged. It gave a hoarse, garbled shout as it swung at the man, who quickly dispatched it after he let out his own challenging cry. Solenne's eyes widened as she frantically surveyed the surrounding area and pulled herself out of her hiding spot and back on top of the rocks. Sure enough, other draugr had heard his shout and were now closing in on his location. What the hell does he think he's doing, shouting like that? Did he think there was JUST one? The man must have realized his mistake, because after he saw the other draugr intent on attacking him as well, he panicked and tried to run away. Solenne drew her bow back out as the man called out for help, and saw two other men running to the first's aid as they dealt with draugr of their own.

    One was a mage, and even from her distant location, Solenne could feel the lightning crackling from his hands in the tips of her fingers. The other seemed drunk, or maybe it was just that his fighting style was fluid and unlike any other she had seen before. Both were fighting small groups of draugr and slowly making their way toward the frightened man. She had no reason to help these people, but nonetheless she found herself leaping carefully from the safety of her rocks and aiming her bow carefully while walking toward the fights taking place. Solenne first focused on the first man, as he didn't look like he was in any state to defend himself. She fired off two arrows, one immediately following the other, at the draugr closest to him. They connected with the gray, leathery skin on its neck and face, causing it to stagger and fall to its knees. She notched a few more arrows and let them fly at the other draugr advancing toward them, swiveling around him to make sure they weren't being surrounded. "I don't know what you were doing yelling back there, but you sure created a fine mess here," Solenne stated matter-of-factly as her arrows brought down another charging draugr.
     
    • Like Like x 8
  6. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Joined:
    Mar 29, 2013
    Messages:
    1,384
    Likes Received:
    647
    Reputation:
    663
    Do'Vassal roamed the countryside, his gaze staring down the horizon of every hill, hoping to catch a glimpse of his companions, Edgar and Do'Tajan, along with the others whose names he could not seem to recall.

    But why was his memory so bad? Where were his friends? What had happened a week ago? He had just left Whiterun proper, after checking with the guards for the two of them. But he had no luck. He sighed in intense frustration.

    So many unanswered questions, and this left the monk practically fuming. There was nothing more aggravating than forgetting such important things. Especially not knowing if his friends were walking this earth, or even still drawing breath!

    Do'Vassal remained vigilant in his search, his ears perking up at every sound, whether it be the wind on the grass, hooves of a horse, even the padded footfalls of wolves or the ground-shaking footsteps of a giant. He would rather the next sound he heard be his companions.

    At that moment, Do'Vassal believed he had gotten his wish.

    Shouts of profanity and need of aid reached his ears, along with the telltale moans of Draugr. His heart started to race. Not only were his allies alive, but they were in danger! Do'Vassal sprinted for toward the voices, hoping that he would get there in time.

    Sounds of combat reached his ears, and he swallowed hard. He needed to hurry!

    He reached the top of a hill and, after scanning the fields, found the source of the calls. However, he felt only disappointment.

    The group fighting off a ever growing horde of Draugr were not his allies, but were what seemed like a group of randoms thrown together by fate. He saw that they seemed to have the situation under control, and debated leaving them to their devices, and continuing to look for his friends.

    However, the longer his eyes glanced over the hordes of undead, the more of a unusual rage built deep within him. He felt his breathing become erratic, and his heart beating faster. With another thought, he started down the hill, rushing the draugr with all that was in him.

    These undead bastards had to die. But what caused this unknowable rage within him?

    Another question that would go unanswered.

    Do'Vassal reached the base of the hill and saw draugr limping toward him. Without a second thought, Do'Vassal cast a holy aura and charged into battle.

    He saw the draugr prepare to swing his greatsword, and he slid to the ground, just barely dodging the low swing of the already wounded draugr. He leapt back to his feet and let loose a sunbolt into the draugr's face. The thing fell in shambles and he spun around to face the rest of them.

    With a loud roar, he rushed into the oncoming draugr, sunbolt's ready in each hand.

    "Lo and behold the wrath of Do'Vassal!" He declared, charging with reckless abandon.
     
    • Like Like x 3
  7. Skyrimosity

    Skyrimosity Fine Southern Gentleman

    Joined:
    Dec 20, 2011
    Messages:
    2,786
    Likes Received:
    1,218
    Reputation:
    644
    Dagvar had been running away from the six Draugr when a Breton man, a mage, charged down a hill. His hands cackled with the power of his magic, and from his hands came what seemed to be lightning. Three of the Draugr fell to the mage's deadly attack. The remaining three turned to face him. But before Dagvar and the man could just finish the battle, more of the Draugr came rushing down the hill.

    Dagvar was still too tired to adequately defend himself. Thankfully, the Draugr had seemed to forget about him. He was about to attack when a Bosmer archer came to their aid. She took out one of the Draugr close to him and then took out two of the Draugr close to the Mage.

    Just when it seemed it could not get any weirder, a Khajiit came charging in. The agile Khajiit charged when the Draugr took sight of him and slid under the swing of one of the Draugr. He then shot a Sunbolt directly into the Draugr's face, sending the monster flying backward.

    "Lo and behold the wrath of Do'Vassal!" the Khajiit declared, charging with a total disregard for his safety.

    Dagvar had recovered by this point and was fighting with two of the Draugr nearest him. He blocked the axe of one with his shield, and immediately followed it with an attack. He slashed the creature on the shoulder, and then immediately brought his shield to his right to block the attack of the other Draugr. When he blocked that, he stabbed the other Draugr in its exposed stomach. The creature then stammered and Dagvar stepped forward and slashed into its neck, killing it.

    It would be easier to defeat the other Draugr now that it was one vs. one. He bashed it in the face with his shield but before he could finish it, something whizzed in front of his face. It was an arrow. He turned to his left to see more Draugr entering the area, the sound of battle attracting them. Some of them had bows, and were very much capable of using them.

    He turned back just in time to see the monstrous undead swinging its sword. He sidestepped it, thinking out of instinct, and stabbed the creature in the side. It was still not dead, and tried to bring its sword around to hit Dagvar in the legs. Dagvar blocked the blow with his shield and stabbed the Draugr in the neck, killing it.

    He moved over to help the Breton, hoping to finish off some of them so they could focus on the incoming Draugr. Dagvar charged in, killing a Draugr with a stab from behind. He found himself by the Mage's side.

    "Thanks for the help". The man was shooting lightning out at a nearby Draugr, but it was not with the same pure energy he had earlier.

    Dagvar then charged at the Draugr once more.
     
    • Like Like x 3
  8. Blackdoom59

    Blackdoom59 BATMAN!

    Joined:
    Aug 13, 2012
    Messages:
    1,438
    Likes Received:
    551
    Reputation:
    301
    Nothing. that was all Garret could think of as he was scrambling through the crates. At first, luck seemed to be bestowed upon him, he stumbled upon a wrecked carriage. Soon after he begun searching it, he got disappointed once more. The situation was looking grim – Garret has not eaten anything for days, and his hunger was just one of his problems. Having an angry platoon of Draugr force him out of the cave, he left running, with almost nothing on him. He only had a couple of potions on him, and soon after he left the cave, he ran out of food, and the only thing that kept him safe during his search for food was a staff of turn undead that he grabbed from the cave before he left.


    He kept searching, but the crates were empty, someone else must have taken whatever was inside them. After searching for a couple of minutes, he leaned back and sat on the ground, trying to catch some rest. He placed both of his hands on his head, and soon he was lost in his own thoughts. How did this whole scenario even turned out to be? Why would the Draugr leave their tombs? Just like everyone else, Garret thought that the Draugr only come back when you enter their tombs. As he rested, his years tingled when a loud moaning could be heard from behind him.

    In an instant, Garret grabbed his staff and turned around – and as he held the staff tighter, a bolt was released from it, and went directly in the draugr’s direction. As soon as it connected, the corpse started fleeing. Garret quickly turned to check the crates, one of them was closed, the only way to open it was to pry it open, but Garret’s time was running out. From behind, more draugr started groaning as they charged at Garret. He tried shooting another bolt to make the draugr flee, but the staff refused to do anything. “Goddamn…”

    The first draugr charged with his sword, and Garret’s attempt to parry the hit with the staff was only half successful, for the staff was cut in half by the force displayed by the draugr. After the swing, the corpse let his guard down, Garret took the opportunity and kicked it away. But more were coming, all rushing towards him – from far back, some of them begun to shoot arrows, but most of them missed Garret. He tried to run away from the battle-hungry horde but the same draugr that was kicked down by Garret extended his hand, and waves of frost magic begun to pour from it. Garret was chilled to the bones, running seemed impossible, if he had a chance of escaping, he needed to kill the mage. He turned back around and unsheathed his sword, as the mage raised from the ground and charged once more. You’d think this bastard would have learned by now he thought to himself as he deflected the attack with his sword arm, then proceeded to kick in the knee of the draugr. The leg simply went off, much to Garret’s surprise. This particular draugr wore no armor, and he seemed fragile enough. He must have been the draugr that was hit with the turn undead spell. Without hesitation, Garret chopped of it’s left arm, so it wouldn’t be able to use frost magic again. He begun running, with arrows raining on him and the cries of the draugr filling his mind.


    Soon he made his way into a forest, to witness a group of people fighting off multiple draugr. In his attempt to help, he pulled out his bow and aimed at a draugr who was dangerously close to a young, blonde haired nord. He readied his bow, and the nord charged at the draugr Garret was aiming at. Garret simply smiled, the nord probably didn’t even knew Garret was there, but he wanted to make sure he gets the kill. He was about to release the arrow, when, from behind him, a large, weaponless draugr jumped on Garret, making him miss his target and hit the nord in his shoulder. He kept trying to fight the draugr off, but to no avail – the beast was bloodthirsty and relentless, it pinned Garret to the ground and kept trying to scratch or bite him. It’s force was phenomenal, and without help, Garret would surely meet his end.
     
    • Like Like x 3
  9. AS88

    AS88 Well-Known Member
    Staff Member

    Joined:
    Jul 31, 2012
    Messages:
    2,489
    Likes Received:
    1,336
    Reputation:
    1,192
    The harsh gale continued to blow down the mountain pass like a chill river, causing Hrogmar to pull his cloak closer around his neck and shoulders. He thought back to his mother sewing the fine ice wolf pelt onto the inside of the cloak he had been given upon his admission into the Stormcloaks, and felt the warmth of his parents' hearth's fire for a fleeting moment. The moment passed as his sodden leather boot set its next step into the snow, as he continued to squint through the minor blizzard and trek down the pass towards Whiterun.

    The pass was a little-known route between the mountains separating Ivarstead and Whiterun, offering a quiet but treacherous alternative to snaking down the cliffs and following the ancient cobbles past Valtheim Towers. The end of the pass led to where the Stormcloaks had set up a small camp of about a dozen men, providing a useful scouting position hidden across the White River from Whiterun. All that was left of the camp was an anvil and a blacksmith's workbench, obviously considered too cumbersome to transport in the urgency of returning to Windhelm. Under the workbench was tucked a small pile of rocks surrounding a few pieces of firewood, perhaps left by one of the Stormcloaks as a lifeline for any lone son or daughter of Skyrim who found themselves isolated. Maybe one had planned to return to retrieve something, or maybe they had been placed there out of personal greed, then left out of necessity in the panic of recent events.

    These considerations did not even enter Hrogmar's mind as he simply picked up the wood and small boulders and carried them to a partially-covered crag in the rock face behind the old camp's location. He placed them down in a well-hidden corner of the mountain's base, where the crags had begun to curl around on itself and sat down. He closed his eyes as he held one of the smaller pieces of wood just above his left hand, and removed himself from the chilly night, which felt colder for the lack of life around him. The tiny flame licked up around the end of the wood, turning it a toasty brown and then into a charcoal black as the kindling started to catch. The flame continued as Hrogmar concentrated harder, drawing the last of his magicka from his being as he began to feel the heat burn the hand holding the wood. His eyes opened to see the small wisp of smoke flitting delicately around the edge of the branch, struggling in the stiff breeze. Hrogmar turned his large shoulders around, and hunched over the wisp of smoke as it continued to grow, and ushered the very last of his magicka into a tiny puff of flame to offer a final bit of encouragement. He knew that if he couldn't get the fire going, he'd be in real trouble.

    The orange glow surrounding the end of the kindling was the most encouraging thing the Nord had seen all day, as he touched the piece to the others and set it down at the bottom of his modest pile. He checked his surroundings again, noting that his location was both a blessing and a curse. Any Draugr would be hard-pressed to see a tiny wisp of smoke blowing in these winds from such a small fire in such a cornered place, and Hrogmar felt about as safe as he had done these past couple of weeks. However, he also knew that if he was discovered, the only escape route would be through whatever was blocking his path. He removed the battleaxe from his back and leant himself against the base of the Monahven, finding a comfortable spot on the rock and feeling the warmth of the small fire take away at least some of the blistering chill off his face. His grasp on his battleaxe clenched through his thick fur gloves, and he hoped that he might at least get an hour or two of sleep before he moved on.
     
    • Like Like x 4
  10. Seanu Reaves

    Seanu Reaves The Shogun of Gaming

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2012
    Messages:
    3,016
    Likes Received:
    1,089
    Reputation:
    1,884
    Vergil felt eyes upon his back. It was probably the slight buzz he worked himself into dulling his senses. He turned to see a full on skirmish breaking out. Arrows were coming from the forest, and try as he may Vergil couldn’t see who the archer was. Then suddenly there was a great roar, and Vergil saw one of the largest Khajiit he has ever seen charge the group with reckless abandon. He moved similar to an old Khajiit he sometimes ran into. Though the sheer power and killing intent was vastly different, the fluidness of movement was unmistakable. So much rage from that cat, Vergil thought with a small laugh. Then suddenly the Khajiit bellowed “Lo and behold the wrath of Do’Vassal!” And Vergil busted up laughing bringing his wine bottle back to his lips for a sip. Someone was dramatic as me? He thought with something of a passing interest. That is a unique thing. Vergil looked at the dead Draugr, and smiled collecting a few coins from the freshly dead undead.

    Collecting his sack of supplies, Vergil looked for someplace to sit on top of the hill. He was far enough away he wouldn’t attract the Draugr actually fighting. Vergil was confident he could be silent enough to let any other undead pass by without noticing him. He sat down on a small rock outcropping and began rummaging through his stolen food. Grabbing a hunk of bread, Vergil began to eat and spectate the battle. His shoulder hurt pretty badly now that some of his intoxication was wearing off. He rubbed it gently. Better than an ax cleaving through it, He rationalized. Strange group we have here. Vergil took out his charcoal and parchment. He began reciting as he wrote editing as he went:

    “Death gathers and men rally/
    We come together as strangers/
    Arkay prepares to make his tally/
    To survive no matter the dangers/
    Oh how we strive to stand as men/
    Oh how we strive to live at any cost…”


    His concentration was broken as he realized that a woman had shown her presence from the other side of the battle. Odd how it didn’t dawn on him till then. He slipped his writing supplies away and continued to take large bites out of the bread. I wonder if my brother and Ria are having better luck, Vergil thought his eyes distant. Probably better than me. He focused on the battle again. It was fun to just watch someone fight for once. One thing Vergil always wanted to see was the Imperial Arena. This was probably the closest he was going to get to some blood sport in a while. So he took a half-hearted sip of his Alto Wine, and enjoyed the spectacle from a safe distance.
     
    • Like Like x 2
  11. Lifts-Her-Tail

    Lifts-Her-Tail Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Dec 11, 2012
    Messages:
    356
    Likes Received:
    358
    Reputation:
    395
    Horiscor strolled through the plains of Whiterun, bare footed, her feet crunching against the small grains of sand beneath. She could feel the cold Skyrim air on her pale skin feeling immediately cold and chilly, wanting to cover up with more clothes, but she had nothing much on her to cover up with. Her eye was quick and she made sure to look around her so not to be ambushed by any Draugr, as even though they weren't extremely swift or hasty, but they were dangerous and could very easily kill her without her even being alerted.

    Horiscor soon came to some bushes and a few juicy looking berries on the thin twigs of the bush and then leaned in to collect the berries as she was dehydrated and the juice inside the berries could maybe help the dehydration. Horiscor was a bit wary though as she didn't know much about berries and she was worried that she may die from it, but her thirst was over whelming and she needed the fluids inside her body. As she was picking them up to taste them in the corner of her eye she could see someone, a Nord, she quickly climbed into the bush and waited to see if the Nord would get near so she could maybe strike and kill him encase he had any food on his body which she was in desperate need of.

    She didn't enjoy killing people. In fact she despised the idea of doing it, but it was necessary for her own survival and she needed the food to make sure she didn't starve to death. It is all about keeping alive and surviving the apocalypse of the Draugr's. It was the Draugr's that she feared the most, as her main fear was the undead because of the smell, the look, it was vile, and it creeped her out to think that her own ancient relative might be trying to kill her. When she saw a Draugr even at a distance she wanted to cry and have her parents back again, even at her age she wanted them by her, but she didn't even know if they were alive anymore. She hoped for the best, but she didn't try and hope too much as the chance of them being alive was slim to nothing.

    Soon the Nord had nearly approached her and she readied her daggers to kill the unfortunate man. Then something incredibly strange happened. First a group of Draugr came out of virtually no where and began to pursue the Nord and then suddenly Bretons, and a Khajiit and god knows what came out of the blue to fight back the hordes of the Draugr's. They were good fighters, but the Draugr's were not easy kills and were approaching fast to attack the group of fighters. She became increasingly terrified for her own life encase some of the Draugr's saw her. She decided to stay hidden and unseen until the end of the small battle was over.
     
    • Like Like x 1
  12. Dradin

    Dradin Tribunal Temple Acolyte

    Joined:
    Jan 13, 2013
    Messages:
    371
    Likes Received:
    239
    Reputation:
    270
    The draugr charged, body slamming into the Reachman, knocking him backwards and down the slope of the hill.

    The fight was going south fast, despite the intrusion of many more fighters, who wish to save the Nord as well. Or perhaps it's me... None the less, the undead picked up the intensity in which they fought, managing to entirely encompass the now forming party.

    "Lo and behold the wrath of Do'Vassal."

    Faleyn shook his head. Darn Khajiit. There's something not right with them... He turned his concentration back on his weakening lightning, the energy slowly draining from his reserve. Cursing under his breath, he pushed forward, managing to disintegrate a shambling corpse before losing all intensity in his spell.

    "Thanks for the help."

    It was the Nord, his weapon raised and his charge starting. Faleyn ceased the spell entirely, in order to preserve what little energy he had remaining for the imminent flight from the battlefield. Cursing under his breath, he sent a draugr flying across the battlefield, managing to hit another undead being with the limp body.

    But the fight was useless...

    Faleyn sprinted to the edge of the circle of dead, sending a chain of electrical energy whipping around a group of corpses, knocking them over and allowing his escape. Glancing waywardly over his shoulder, he ran forward.

    "Run you idiots!"

    Faleyn pushed on, not waiting for the draugr to regain their footing... Or his new found companions to follow him...
     
    • Like Like x 3
  13. Irish

    Irish Thane of Solitude

    Joined:
    Dec 27, 2012
    Messages:
    505
    Likes Received:
    544
    Reputation:
    790
    "You may wish to try your luck with Whiterun as I doubt you'll have much luck getting into Windhelm. I know your lover, Kai Wet-Pommel, is there, but don't think that will be reason enough for them to open the gates," said Madena, court wizard to the presently deceased Jarl of Dawnstar. "Or try Solitude and Markarth; those cities are walled as well, though quite far. As for me, back to High Rock I go and it's about time, too. Ridiculous how long Skald the Elder kept me here because of that damn war."

    Elona nodded sympathetically. "Are you sure you don't want to join me? It would be much safer if we traveled together than if we went alone," she suggested. "Strength in numbers, as Kai always said."

    "No, dear, I've got my own path in mind. I am going to travel along the Sea of Ghosts. Doubt there are many draugr there."

    "If not draugr, then other terrible creatures that would love to see you dead, you fool," Elona thought bitterly. Shrugging, she slung her knapsack over her shoulder and left the White Hall. As her hide boots crunched in the blood-stained snow, she forced herself not to look anywhere but forward and especially not at her home where her adoptive mother lay dead. There was nothing left for her in Dawnstar, so she made a slight left on the path and headed for Whiterun.

    It seemed like weeks to Elona before she caught sight of Loreius Farm and the towering Dragonsreach palace in the distance. She'd already battled a small group of draugr and a stray on her journey, so was all the more happy and somewhat relieved to be so close to her destination. "If there are any gods, I hope they've spared the city of Whiterun. I also hope I haven't ventured all this way for naught," she thought wearily. Opening her knapsack, she pulled out a Potion of Stamina, ingested it, and began sprinting towards the city. After all, time was of the essence.

    *********​

    "Divines, save us!"
    "Mama! Where are you? I can't find you!"

    Just outside of the city gate, Elona heard various pleas of desperation in between the muffled cries of agony, panic, and despair. She closed her eyes, forcing back tears, and stood silent. Her fear had come true: Whiterun was under attack. A feeling of heaviness consumed her and for the first time since she found her hometown destroyed, she felt hopeless. If a city as grand as Whiterun, then where else could she go? What was left for her in this frozen, desolate province called Skyrim? With her teeth clenched in frustration, she turned and left. She checked out the stables and searched for any lingering or hidden draugr and survivors, barricaded the doorways, then slept her anxieties and depression off for days.

    "There has got to be some city or place in this gods-be-damned land this isn't overrun by draugr. I suppose I could head westward..." Elona reached a crossroads and studied the signs, which pointed her every which way. She remembered both Markarth and Solitude had nearly impenetrable stone walls and set off on the road, somewhat pessimistic of what she would find.

    "Run you idiots," she heard a male voice exclaim. Elona stopped at once and looked around, making sure she wasn't losing her mind. Then came the clashing of swords and battle cries and at once she knew: She wasn't alone. There were other survivors. How man, she couldn't guess, but the thought of there being others gave her hope. She quickly summoned a flame atronach and ran off towards the raucous. Once she arrived at the ensuing fight, she observed the ragtag group, then immediately began aiding in the melee.

    As storm and fire spells flew from her hands she couldn't help but think to herself that just maybe, this would redeem her failure in aiding the citizens of Whiterun. "Fight or flight and this time, I'm going to fight."
     
    • Like Like x 5
  14. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Joined:
    Mar 29, 2013
    Messages:
    1,384
    Likes Received:
    647
    Reputation:
    663
    Do'Vassal's furious charge did not relent, as he continued to blast the draugr relentlessly with his divine fury.

    His spells flung about haphazardly, not worrying about hitting the living fighters, as sun spells had no effect on them. He continued to rave about, until a Draugr came up from behind and slammed the khajiit in the back with the business end of his shield, bringing the overzealous cat to the ground.

    Do'Vassal flipped over, only to see the same bastards sword come down, and he rolled away to miss the blow. The draugr saw this, and did it again, hoping this swing would yield better results.

    Thankfully for the khajiit, it did not. Feeling his strength return to him somewhat, Do'Vassal hiked up his legs and kicked them forward, bringing himself back upright and taking his opponent down to the floor, unsure of what had just hit him. Do'Vassal took the chance and threw another pair of sunbolt's into the sprawling draugr, hoping he wouldn't get up again.

    "Run you idiots!"

    Do'Vassal heard this above the clangs of combat. He shook his head as he only continued to fight, not phased by the increasing number of draugr that were certain to overwhelm them soon.

    "If you only wish to die tired, this one will not argue!" He declared, unsure if the owner of the earlier statement could even hear him. He kept spekaing, however, unabated. "However, Khajiit would much rather he take all of them with him before he goes, not make himself an easy target and die empty-handed!"

    With that declaration, the cat returned to his original task, and began to race around again recklessly, flinging bolts at all the undead he saw.

    However, the cat's vigor started to drain, as he noticed that it wasn't getting any easier. In fact, the draugr were still multiplying, and that snapped Do'Vassal out of his reckless charge. He looked around worriedly, his usual demeanor returning.

    Returning to his more defensive manor, he unsheathed his scimitar and got into a stance, this time waiting for the draugr to come to him.

    Prancing about casting spells in the name of purity was foolishness, and he knew that.

    Or, at least he had thought he did, but taking into account all that had just transpired...

    Maybe he needed to learn it again.
     
    • Like Like x 1
  15. Skyrimosity

    Skyrimosity Fine Southern Gentleman

    Joined:
    Dec 20, 2011
    Messages:
    2,786
    Likes Received:
    1,218
    Reputation:
    644
    Dagvar was in a fight with Draugr when, from a nearby forest, an arrow came in and hit him in the shoulder. Distracted by the sudden pain, one of the Draugr nearly slashed his neck. The blow would have been fatal but Dagvar was capable of just barely dodging it by falling to the ground, his initial reaction instead of thinking to raise his shield. He quickly stabbed the Draugr in its leg and rolled back, standing up to assess himself. Blood was covering his shoulder but it did not hurt much. The adrenaline was compensating for the pain. Unfortunately, it was his right shoulder, his sword arm.

    "Run you idiots!" yelled the Breton, before trying to escape. What a surprise, a mage running when the battle gets tough! Dagvar knew it would be pointless by now. The Draugr would be able to at least not get too far behind them and, as far as Dagvar could ever tell, Draugr did not get tired. Besides, they had dented the Draugr's numbers by now. There were, Dagvar estimated, twenty Draugr in the area. At their peak, they had been forty. Halfway there.

    Dagvar charged into a Draugr, bashing it in the face with his leather shield. The monster fell to the ground, an easy target. Before Dagvar could claim the kill, an arrow fired from somewhere killed the beast by striking it in the head. Dagvar did not look around to see who had shot the arrow, but rather fought the nearest Draugr. By now, the rush of Adrenaline had worn off. He began to feel the pain in his shoulder, and his strikes became less powerful.

    He looked around. We can win this.
     
    • Like Like x 1
  16. Seanu Reaves

    Seanu Reaves The Shogun of Gaming

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2012
    Messages:
    3,016
    Likes Received:
    1,089
    Reputation:
    1,884
    Vergil cracked a smile as the savage-looking man from The Reach turn tale and run. I see why they must have exiled the poor chap, Vergil mused taking a halfhearted sip of his wine. You can say what you want about those people, but they do not support the weak. Then fire and lighting started descending upon the draugr, and Vergil looked to see a woman join the fray followed by a flame atronach. Vergil’s attention then snapped back to the main group.

    Speaking of the weak, Vergil was pleasantly surprised when the Nord, who had taken an arrow to the shoulder, found himself fighting harder even though his strength had to be wavering. The Khajiit seemed to be reenergized as well, though it became apparent that his strength was sapping away. The way he moved and shifted his stance reminded him of that old cat he met so long ago. Vergil knew he wasn’t going to leave them to their fate. No not yet. Vergil looked at the sack of supplies and sighed, these were the first people he had seen in a long time that showed something of benevolence for their fellow living. Working quickly he disguised the bag as a rock, just a small precaution if the skirmish attracted a little sneak thief.

    He careful moved down the hillside, dropping into a crouch so he could avoid the draugr’s vision for as long as possible. Thankfully they seemed utterly focused on the trio they had already encountered. Alright what is the plan, Vergil thought to himself weighing in all that he could see and all he knew. There were two non-draugr archers though one had stopped firing after the Nord got hit. The mage broke lines, unimportant cur at this point in the fight, and Vergil had to assume his pool of magical energy had simply dried up. And the two warriors forced into a more conservative fighting style. The woman’s spells were also making short work of the draugr. He moved as closely as he dared, making sure to avoid the largest group of draugr since that is where most of the woman’s destructive magic was being focused. He began taking his dagger to some straggling draugr, his dagger and sword striking swiftly and suddenly. One draugr finally caught on and Vergil stood up to face his undead opponent.


    “I swear you better be worth the time for me to introduce myself as Vergilious. Known as The Milk-Drinker by friends and Wineblade by foes. Prepare to become another fallen foe in my story."
     
    • Like Like x 3
  17. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

    Joined:
    Feb 11, 2012
    Messages:
    1,598
    Likes Received:
    633
    Reputation:
    445
    The arrows Solenne were firing at the Draugr didn't seem to be doing very much damage. Although she had caused quite a few of them to drop to their knees, they rose back to their feet moments later, breaking the arrows protruding from their skin and slowly staggering toward her. She growled softly, swearing under her breath. "Assholes. Do you know how long it took me to find and make those arrows?" Her arrows weren't doing enough damage, and she could feel from the lightness on her back that her quiver was beginning to run low. She had already heard one of the men screaming about running, and she had to admit that the idea didn't sound bad at a time like this. But her pride would never allow her to run away from this challenge until she absolutely to; her life, as well as the others who had emerged from nowhere to join the fight, depended on taking out as many draugr as possible. Solenne didn't like having to trust in the abilities of complete strangers when it came to preserving her own life, but in this case she didn't have much of a choice. The man's yell had attracted more draugr than she had expected.

    What she needed to do was to find their weakness. On a living target, Solenne would have no problem taking someone down with a few well placed arrows to the chest, neck, or head. But the reanimated corpses of long dead Nords were much more difficult to take down. It wouldn't be simple. It was times like this that Solenne wished she had learned to wield a sword instead of just her dagger. Cleanly slicing limbs off seemed much more effective than her trial-and-error method. She frowned as she continued to carefully fire at the draugr slowly ambling toward her, shooting arrows into different spots to see which ones had the best effect.

    A draugr riddled with numerous arrows finally fell over in defeat after the final arrow lodged itself directly in the middle of its forehead. That's two that I've managed to take down after how long? Solenne shot some hurried glances over her shoulder as she approached the top of a hill for a better view. There were still many draugr left to fight, but others had also joined into the initial fray as well. Hopefully this would make things a bit easier to manage. As Solenne's eyes traveled across the plain and surveyed the fighting, she counted how many were against the draugr.

    The man she noticed earlier, currently rushing toward another draugr with his shield raised protectively; another man was rushing toward the forest, presumably the one who had shouted earlier; a Khajiit eagerly and enthusiastically flinging bolts of fire at any draugr he laid his eyes on; a female mage was firing both lightning and fire at the draugr; and the man whose fighting style she had labeled as "fluid" earlier was actually using stealth and subtlety to take draugr down until they finally turned and realized what he was doing. Have to give him credit for being able to take some out before they spotted him. But it doesn't look like he's backing down.

    Solenne lifted her bow back up to match her line of sight, steadily aiming at the draugr and firing an arrow at its head. Hopefully it would distract it long enough for the man to be able to take it out. When it came to battles like this, she was quickly learning that she was much more of a help from a distance rather than up close, so she would do what she could from back here. Hopefully this man understands what I'm doing.
     
    • Like Like x 5
  18. AS88

    AS88 Well-Known Member
    Staff Member

    Joined:
    Jul 31, 2012
    Messages:
    2,489
    Likes Received:
    1,336
    Reputation:
    1,192
    The sting of the cold was the first thing that came to Hrogmar's attention as he opened an eye, half-heartedly hoping the sound that'd broken his sleep was just the wind. Then came the sight, and the smell.

    The chipped and bloodied edge of the battleaxe was the first thing he saw appear around the rock, followed by the rotting, sinewy hand and forearm belonging to the Draugr. The unnatural, guttural groan and the chilling shriek are what finally prompted Hrogmar to awake fully from his half-dreaming state. He stumbled and tripped on the fire as he leapt up, but regained his balance and readied his arm and axe for the surging blow the monster attempted to land. The blow was parried, but the stench which followed it was not, and it took half of Hrogmar's strength not to wretch as he parried another blow.

    He had nowhere to go. He had no men to fight for. He didn't know if he even had a home to go to any more. His battleaxe dropped slightly, and the Draugr's next swing bit into Hrogmar's shoulder following a partial block. The pain woke him from his helplessness, and he pushed back. This wasn't the day that Hrogmar Stone-Beard would fall to some lousy, rotting corpse. He maintained his block as the Draugr tried to pull back its axe despite the jam that the Nord had created with his own. Hrogmar took a step into the Draugr, looking it straight in the eye as he launched a foot into its knee. A sickening crunch ricocheted in the narrow chasm as the Draugr's knee gave way and it collapsed into the fire. Its screams would haunt Hrogmar for the rest of his days, but now was not the time, as he raised his battleaxe above his head and roared as he brought it down again and again, down onto the scrambling corpse. It blocked the first few strikes, first with its weapon and then with what remained of its limbs, but the combined effort of trying to escape the fire and resisting Hrogmar's rage was too much for it to bear and the wails continued until the Nord sent a terrible strike straight into the Draugr's neck.
     
    • Like Like x 4
  19. Irish

    Irish Thane of Solitude

    Joined:
    Dec 27, 2012
    Messages:
    505
    Likes Received:
    544
    Reputation:
    790
    The horde began to dwindle in number and Elona couldn't have been any more relieved. She sensed she wasn't the only person who felt near the brink of exhaustion; swords swung more tiredly, arrows were released from their bows at slower increments, and spells were haphazardly flung about. Taking a quick survey of the battle, Elona opened her satchel and ingested the last of her magicka potions as she said a quick prayer to Meridia. This has to be enough. If I can't get this spell, then I may as well count myself among the dead. She took a deep breath, focused her mind away from the raucous and on the incantation, then summoned a storm atronach before collapsing on the ground.

    All went black. For a moment, she embraced the respite of clashing swords and the undead. Death has come for me, she mused.

    ************

    "You there. Breton. Wake up!"

    Elona jolted awake. She looked around, confused at what was going on around her, and exhaled the breath she didn't know she'd held. She rubbed her eyes until her sight was clear and looked up to see a Nord male studying her, his face a mixture of relief and concern.

    "I - I'm not dead," asked Elona as she looked around, still dazed and confused. "It all...everything went black. I was sure the spell I cast did me in."

    The fair-haired and scruffy Nord raised a brow and looked quizzically at a Bosmer woman before turning his attention back to Elona. "Well, you're clearly not dead unless this is the Divines' idea of a joke. Anyway, that thing you summoned helped us get rid of the remaining draugr. Not bad for a mage. The name's Dagvar," he said as he offered a hand to help her up on her feet.

    "Thank you," she replied as she dusted herself off. "I'm Elona. Happy to hear the storm atronach could assist you all when I clearly could not." She felt embarrassed, but let it pass as she did not want to appear weaker than she already had. Skyrim's children generally distrusted mages and the art of magic and Elona knew The Great Collapse in Winterhold all but put that notion in stone. She studied the group and wondered if they would either band together or go their separate ways. After all, what was truly left in the desolate province that would justify the latter? She'd seen nary a living soul during her travel to Whiterun and now there were seven, including herself, capable people of various races. "We ought to stick together," she blurted out.

    "Aye," Dagvar agreed. "We will set up camp for the night, then head to Fort Greymoor at dawn." With that, each person began to set up his and her own bedrolls and tents. The sun began to sink into the horizon, filling the sky with vivid shades of red, orange, and purple. Off in the distance, she could see the shadowed outline of the Fort and wondered if they would last through the night.
     
    • Like Like x 4
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    AS88: 26 Points (RP Revival Rep) Apr 16, 2014
  20. Skyrimosity

    Skyrimosity Fine Southern Gentleman

    Joined:
    Dec 20, 2011
    Messages:
    2,786
    Likes Received:
    1,218
    Reputation:
    644
    The battle with the Draugr had ended, with no human or mer being killed. A Breton had summoned a Storm Atronach, its energy certainly of a much greater quantity than anyone left standing had. Dagvar's adrenaline had slowed, pain from his arrow wound in his shoulder conflicting with everything he wished his body to do. "Block!" his body would try to say. "Ow! It hurts!" was the shoulder's response. The atronach, whose power was so intense that merely summoning it had knocked out the Breton, was certainly a welcome sight.

    Draugr started to fall everywhere as each defeated their opponents. It was not much longer until the draugr had lost. Then, another predicament came up. There was a whole group there? What now? Would they stick together, or would they simply continue on their separate ways?

    "Thank you all for your help" spoke Dagvar. "I had never thought there would be so many." Each person was glancing around at each other. Dagvar could see in their eyes that they did not want to be alone again. "We should form a group. All of us are capable of surviving alone... surely we'd be better at it together." No one spoke, simply silence. It was strange, having met with each other under such circumstances. But

    "Sunset shall be upon us shortly... the Breton is still knocked out so if you're going to stay, I suggest getting ready to set up camp." Nobody moved. Dagvar smiled inwardly, though not outwardly. "Fort Greymoor is only a short walk from here. If we capture it, we have a safer place to stay. I'm sure that's something we all miss. Safety." There were nods. They all began to look visibly more comfortable.

    Not long after, the Breton awoke. By now, some of the newly-formed group were talking and interacting. She asked if she were dead, and Dagvar found the entire concept funny. After all, were she dead, how would she be talking?

    "Well, you're clearly not dead unless this is the Divines' idea of a joke. Anyway, that thing you summoned helped us get rid of the remaining draugr. Not bad for a mage. The name's Dagvar." Dagvar thought it a good idea to say that loudly, so as to avoid having to introduce himself again.

    Elona then yelled, rather suddenly, that they ought to stick together. She didn't realize she had been unconscious for around an hour, obviously, and that this matter seemed to have been settled.

    "We will set up camp for the night, then head to Fort Greymoor at dawn."

    "Now obviously, in the meantime," Dagvar said moments later, "we should establish a watch. I will take first duty, of course. There should be two guards per night, one takes the first half of the night and the other takes the other half. I volunteer myself, and whoever else wishes to help may speak so now."
     
    • Like Like x 1
: Rise, Draugr

Share This Page

  • Like us on Facebook