Re: Adventures in Skyrim [RP]
Half-Moon Mill/Surrounding Wilderness
Affected RPers: None.
Asden's eyes slowly opened, groggy with hours of unconsciousness. As he slowly pushed himself off of the ground, he recalled the night before. Remembering the fire-breathing monstrosity that tore the Stormcloak regiment apart, he quickly squatted underneath the ceiling of his hole. He contemplated his next move, "Alright, Divines be damned, where should I go?"
He reached up and began to pull himself out of the hole, grasping onto the roots of the unearthed tree that served as a barrier between him and any danger. The area that was once a forest was now a marshy wetland, with evidence of charred foliage. As Asden examined his surroundings, he also stared into the overcast skies, reassuring himself that there was no dragon in the sky, "What era am I living in?" he whispered to himself, "I feel like I've been knocked back to ancient Nordic times."
Asden realized that as he pondered his next move, he had wondered into the field where the battle had taken place. His steel-toed leather boots stuck to the mud, each time he lifted them up, a large amount of the soaked soil would slosh up with each step. He suddenly stumbled through the mud, finding himself staring into the face of a mangled Stormcloak soldier. He let out a brief and concise yell, and quickly rolled off of the body. For a moment, he simply gazed at the wretched corpse, but finally began to rustle through his belongings.
"Who are you?" Asden asked inquisitively as he looked through his belongings. As he began to piece together the young soldier's character, he discovered that he was a single father. A note from his daughter asked when he would return, as she was tired of being home alone. Asden was saddened, "Why do we have to kill one another?"
Suddenly, a distant roar echoed throughout the distant mountains, "Gah, has that pungent pile of rubbish returned once again?" He began to sprint through the marshy grass, searching for some sort of shelter to escape the dragon's apparent new abode. As he made his way through the marsh, he began to recognize his location. He was headed to Falkreath again, "I don't want to go there. I need to head to Solitude," he concluded. He then turned in the opposite direction, towards the resonated screech of the dragon. Asden looked back, longing for the safety of the hold, but he made up his mind. He needed to tell the Imperials the details of the dragon attacks.
He began to step forward, only abruptly dropped to a crouch. He spotted an old archaic tower, far beyond the years of any structure he had observed in Falkreath. The structure and its perimeter possessed strange robed figures that wondered about the exterior. Asden thought little of it, since bandits and rogue necromancers were common due to the upheaval, and he had dealt with their ilk frequently. Upon closer examination, however, he found that these individuals were clinging to the shadows, as if fearful of the grey and obscured sunlight that peered through the overcast sky, "Vampires."
Noting their positions, keeping a watchful eye on the closest one, he slowly drew an arrow from his quiver. Asden began to debate on whether or not it would be too much trouble engaging the band of blood-thirsty beings, but reminded himself that he too needed some form of shelter. It was well past midday, and with his location between Falkreath and Riverwood, Stormcloaks and bandits would no doubt be investigating the area. He began to sneak closer to the vampire encampment, lining up an accurate shot. Slowly letting out a breath, he let fly the projectile. The target was not even able to make a noise, the arrow jutting out of her mouth as she was felled.
He moved closer, finding one of the vampire's thralls droning aimlessly about doing tasks for the vampires. One seemed to be burying bodies of the devoured. Unsheathing his dagger, Asden silently dispatched the thrall with haste. He began to search for his next target, but felt a brief stir in airflow. Asden spun around, as he did so a vampire knocking Asden's dagger out of his hand. Narrowly avoiding another blow, he pulled another arrow from his quiver and began to align another shot with his bow. As the vampire began to mutter a spell, a thrall bounded towards Asden. Leaping to avoid the vampire's attack, he turned his torso and released the arrow into the thrall's shoulder. The force of the strike caused the thrall to fall to his knees, "Ack!"
The vampire cast another spell, this time even closer to effecting Asden. Asden rolled towards his dagger, quickly wielding it. Looking at the vampire, he noticed that it raised its arm every time it prepared to cast its spell, showing its palm to its opponent. As the vampire began recite the spell underneath his breath, Asden lunged at the vampire's hand. Ramming the blade into the palm of his blood-thirsty assailant, Asden began to twist the blade.
"Hay, puny Imperial."
Asden slowly faced the direction he heard the voice, but as he turned a large block of wood plowed into his face. Asden was stunned, he could not think of anything to say, nor could he control his body movements. Two thralls dragged him by the arms into the tower, laughing triumphantly as they did so. Asden's vision continued to blur each time he blinked, unable to clearly make out any details of his new surroundings.
"This one has come to us," a vampiress giggled, gently placing her hand on Asden's cheek. Still dazed, Asden dropped to the floor in a heap when the thralls released him. His helplessness seemed to please the insufferable woman, "Good. Put him down in the basement with the others. I'll ask for him when I feel peckish."
The thralls did her bidding, once again lifting Asden off the ground. As they neared the basement, he began to regain his awareness. When one of the thralls released his arm to lift the hatch that sealed the entrance to the basement, Asden reached across his chest and grasped the other thrall's fingers. Lifting up, still holding the fingers, he twisted the thrall's hand and pulled down. The thrall let out a brief whimper as his fingers broke, "Ow, you son of a-"
"Ah, shurrup and put a bandage on it. Shoulda been more prepared you nincompoop," the other thrall snarled, both quickly subdued Asden once again, "Now get down there and get nice and tasty for the lady." They continued the chuckle as they shut the basement door, leaving him among less 'fresh' meals.
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Last edited by Teddiursa of the Sky; 04-14-2013 at 02:38 AM.