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    rizen

    A to the K homeboy
    banner.jpg

    ...The Skyrim based horror/fantasy RolePlay.
    The viral outbreak takes hold well after the legend of the dragonborn. The vampiric disease has evolved into a new threat. The afflicted have lost all traces of their former selves, have adopted what appears to be a hive mentality and serve to an unknown unified purpose. The disease spreads, even now, as you continue to read...
    Our Roleplay follows a mismatched handful of 'everyday people' thrust into a new world of terror and survival stretched to their limits. A new world coloured with suspicion, mystery and danger.
    What does it mean to survive?
    What does survival cost?
    When decisions are forced upon the unwilling that fall into a grey area, this must become the beacon of light in a land covered in darkness. Ourselves, others - what it means to be 'friend' or 'family' does not mean what it once implied, not when life becomes currency. We master ourselves, then maybe, just maybe we stand to oppose the outside threat.
     

    Delusional

    Connoisseur of Hallucinations
    Silann awoke with a start.

    He slowly sat up out of his worn bed, rubbed his eyes, and looked around his home. His beautiful wife was fast asleep to his left, and could pick out the silhouette of his son curled up in his cot across the room. Silann turned and lifted himself from the bed groggily. He heard muffled shouting coming from outside.

    He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a tunic and a pair of trousers. He lazily threw them on, sleep still weighing heavily on his eyes. He stumbled over to the door and stepped into his black, torn boots. Silann rubbed his eyes once more before quietly opening the door and stepping outside into the chilled night air.

    He surveyed the surroundings, and noticed a gathering of the townspeople, clumped around a chestnut mare at the gate into town. He began walking towards the crowd, trying to pick words out of the roar of the crowd. He looked to his right and left, seeing some strangers clustered on the porch of the inn, conversing in hushed voices. On his right, he saw soldiers exiting the barracks and heading towards the mob at the gate, undoubtedly heading to break up the crowd and send the people back to their homes.

    Silann broke into a light jog, hoping to catch some of what was happening before the guards intervened. His boots padded lightly on the uneven cobblestone road, and he slowly shook off his sleepiness.

    "...save us! We have..." Silann began to hear specific words as he approached the crowd, separate from the constant roar. He quickened his pace, and soon arrived at the rear of the crowd. There was a man standing adjacent the mare, clad in an Imperial leather tunic, holding a slip of paper in the air, attempting to shout over the mob.

    "...everyone! Quiet please! Do not panic! Imperial soldiers have been ordered down to strengthen the garrison here and defend the town! Do not..." The man was desperately trying to relay his message to the people, but it was to no avail.

    "What is going on here?" Silann tapped the nearest man on the shoulder. He turned, and he saw from his square face covered with orange facial hair, with beady green eyes, that it was Hrolgar, a large, stocky hunter who has been staying in the inn for quite some time.

    "Huh? Oh, this man has arrived here with urgent word for the Jarl, but he refuses to tell us. All he keeps saying is how we will be safe. I don't understand, what is there to keep from us?" Hrolgar replied, shouting over the crowd.

    Silann nodded thank you to the burly hunter and shouldered his way to the center of the storm of people.

    Perhaps he will listen to me, if I am courteous and polite to him... Silann found his way to the center and approached the man, who had sweat dripping from his wet black hair.

    "Excuse me, sir, please do not mind these frantic people. What is it you bring for the Jarl?" Silann spoke loudly enough for the Imperial to hear him, but softly enough for it to still sound polite.

    "What? Huh? Oh, this is word for the Jarl only. I must get through to him!" He grunted as he spoke, trying to push back the encroaching crowd of residents.

    "The Jarl is likely asleep at this hour, and if you should know one thing about our Jarl, it is that he cannot be bothered while sleeping. You will have to wait until morning."

    Suddenly, the Imperial was knocked off his feet, and the sealed paper floated through the air. Silann leaped onto the horse stirrup and snatched the letter out of the air before the many reaching hands could possess it.

    "Quiet! Quiet, everyone! Please! Let me read it!" Silann shouted, eager to calm the townspeople down. He looked up, to see the guards waiting behind the mob, clearly eager to know of the note's contents.

    The roar of the crowd died down, and was replaced by a eerie silence as Silann gently opened the letter.

    To whomever receives this notice, the note read.

    You are in grave danger, wherever you may be. An outbreak of a deadly and extremely volatile and contagious disease has swept across Skyrim from where it started - in the swamps of Hjaalmarch. Get to safety. Wall your towns, cities and homes up. No one is safe.

    There was no sign-off, the note simply trailed off. Silann slowly looked up from the note to face the masses of Falkreath. His eyes were overflowing with despair.

    "What is it?"

    Yeah! Read it to us!"

    Silann gazed out onto the crowd, eager and itching to read the note. Silann's hand loosened it's grip on the note, and it slid out of his grasp and gracefully floated down to rest on the muddy, moist cobblestone path.

    "Divines help us," Silann whispered, before running from the center of the crowd, making a beeline directly for his home.

    "Divines help us."
     

    rizen

    A to the K homeboy
    Tatum woke to a startle. He barely had time to notice that the bedrolls next to his own were empty. Fear shifted through the group of refugees, already busying themselves, collecting up meager belongings and stuffing them into packs in a haphazard frenzy. Grief stricken cries came from the outskirts of the camp, floating over the clangs of pots and pans, murmurs and parents calling for children to hurry. He already knew - They'd lost another during the night. It didn't matter to Tatum who the latest victim was, he didn't know anybody here, didn't care to for that matter either. Why they ever bothered to check the crime-scene was a waste of time too! Heck, what were they expecting to find? A trail of blood leading in amongst the trees for what? More shock? More death?
    They would fall into the safe embrace of Solitude's walls within a day's travel at their current pace. Tatum wished that the latest victim was that sluggish fat guy that'd been holding up the group for the last 2 days, stopping and starting, stopping and starting, coughing and farting, sweating and chaffing. With that burden removed from the group, Tatum figured they'd be home and hosed before nightfall - This day!
    His premature hopes were dashed at the familiar sound of wheezing followed by a fart for emphasis, seemingly to mock him. Fantastic! - the fat guy was scooping beans from a pot and shoveling them down in record time.
    He grumbled something about 'not chewing and choking' as he roused himself, brushed away the stray pine needles that clung to his clothing, gathered up his bedroll and bound it neatly to his pack.
    He took a moment, pressed his hands to his lower back and leaned back against them, his spine popped multiple times. He could see many of the younger members of the group were already leaving the campsite and headed up the trail. Very well, he let out a heavy breath, steam clouded before him. He deftly clapped his hands together and rubbed the chill from his knuckles. Tatum shouldered his pack and fell into step, let the stragglers smell fatty's breakfast.

    Hours flitted by as it had become apparent to Tatum that this smaller 'sub' group had no intention of waiting for the slower ones to catch up. At their first break to catch breath and gulp down water, he overheard the panic in the voices of 2 younger men. Apparently, the most recent death was the strongest and most capable guy you could meet, had offered to stand watch while everyone was able to sleep. Of all people, if he could fall victim to these monsters then anyone could. Solitude, and not soon enough.

    The sun seemed to blaze across the sky, the shadows grew longer. The younger men had raced ahead, become figures on the horizon to disappearing altogether. Tatum held pace with the woman hiking in front of him. His surroundings no longer mattered, his legs ached and his breathing grated on his raw throat, yet he continued to pump his old legs in time with each breath. He'd gone from staring at the back of the boots of the woman he trailed into a long term relationship with those soles. Those heels were all that mattered, all that kept him moving...
    'THWUP'
    The woman collapsed to the ground. An arrow protruded from her chest. She coughed a combination of phlegm and blood. Her eyes bulged as they met Tatum's. She muttered words too silent to hear and stopped mid-sentence. Dead.
    For the first time in what seemed like hours, Tatum lifted his gaze. The great gates of Solitude loomed before him. Torches were held by numerous guards positioned along the walls, others held bows...all trained on his chest.
    "Come no further, old man" a voice sang out, stern and lacking of emotion.
    Tatum held up his hands to show he was unarmed, his eyes darted about, soaking in the scene before him. The men that arrived before him were lying dead just ahead on the path leading to the gates, stuck with so many arrows that they reminded him of a seamstress' pin cushion.
    "I said come no further!" the voice sounding more impatient.
    "There's nowhere to go" Tatum pleaded "Markarth...Markarth...it's not safe anymore!" he called out.
    "Solitude is closed to all. Leave now"
    "But!.." THWUP THUWP THWUP...3 arrows landed in the ground before his feet.
    "SOLITUDE IS CLOSED" the stern voice commanded.

    Tatum slowly backed away, shocked, afraid...He was still considering what to do, where he should go before he realized that his hands were still raised in the air.
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    The roof of a house can get pretty mundane if you are staring at it for two hours. Sheila couldn't sleep, and it was midday. She did plan on sleeping in. She put on her pants and a light linen shirt. She also got her dagger in case some idiot wants to hassle her. The sound of the city bothered her most times. The ever present waterfall of voices, thudding of footsteps, and the irritating squeaks of children hollering. She didn't mind steel being forged, it was like rain to her in a odd way. It helped her sleep or calm down. She didn't mind some merchants. Sheila just hates people. Well most people anyways. She only likes her sister Avia, and her small circle of friends. Sheila believes in a small but very tight group of friends vs a big but loose group of friends. She just prefers people who understand her and the way she is. Funny thing though is that she is a hopeless romantic. Reading daring, romance books to spice up her readings of fletching, tall tales, fables, and history. Books are quite, intimate, and don't judge, just like how she likes them.

    She looked down at the streets, then noticed a influx of guards and how they were all manning the gates and the gate towers. This interested her, so she monkeyed her way down to the streets taking as short as possible and decided to sneak in there. Or at least close enough for a look. She was always a curious one. She payed close attention to the guards movements from a far. Maybe she could just ask... How she hates the thought of it. At the same time she could just pay close attention. After reading a lot you find that your senses are heightened and you view your surroundings more thoroughly. She looked by the left side of the gate and saw a way up. She scaled the wall as fast and discreetly as she could. Once at the top she saw a group of what appeared to be refugees of sorts, a woman who was now a human pin cushion, an old man backing up from the body, the guards barking for them to get back. Did the guard open fire? If so why? Why is there refugees? She heard a rumor of something spreading from person to person but she thought it was just a rumor. She needed to find out and soon. She needed to talk to Avia. Sheila proceeded to scurry down, while still being sneaky. Finally her feet touched the ground and they started at a fast walk. Maybe Avia could answer her questions. Sheila wondered if anyone has any idea. Surely if there it was widespread the townsfolk would know? So many questions, and she wanted answers...
     

    A.Auditore

    maybe...
    She poked the fire with the stick, stirring the embers around "I’ve seen with my own eyes" the man sitting next to her spoke out, "And in different forms" she side glanced him with her greens eyes, rolled them up and over looking down in her lap where her daughters head rested "You’re full of it" but she knew the truth about the "infected ones" as they were called within her little hunting group, the man grabbed her arm "I swear I have seen them Ivy, they come in different forms I swear it, I’ve seen them, they are like you and I, dressed in clean clothes with a high society look while the others are like beast, dirty dingy and ratted clothes running normal at first then running like beasts, I have" she looked at the man "Will you just hush up William, you’re making the others nervous and it is affecting our hunting" she grabbed a bottle of mead that was next to her and shoved in his chest

    "Drink this and shut up with your nonsense of these infected ones" she shook her head and looked down at her daughter again and started to stroke her blond hair "Ivy why must you always tell me to hush up, you know I am right, I know you have seen them too like me…remember" her head shot a look at him her green eyes burned within his "I do not know what you mean William, now hush" her tone was stern, his eyes widen and he moved over away from her taking the bottle to his mouth "But…But what if they come when we are all sleeping?!" a voice rang out from across her,

    she closed her eyes slowly and let out a sigh and in a sarcastic tone "By Talos I hope they do, and take you first" deep down she wish it were true, the man reminded her of a rat, there came a chuckle from the man next to her "Ivy you sure your husband passed during winter or did you kill him off?" she shook her head at him “No Ivy didn’t kill her husband, she may look rough on the outside but she is more of a lover if anything” William winked at her, she rolled her eyes at him once more “Someone take that mead away from him, I think I made a mistake giving it to him in the first place“Ha she gave it to him” there came a bunch of snickers, Ivy laughed “Alright you guys, hush up before you wake her up, this is a long time since she has had any kind of rest in awhile” she looked down again at her daughter resting peacefully.

    The cold breeze and the screaming snapped her from her slumber, her eyes flew open as she reached down where her daughter was laying only to find nothing there, she jumped to her feet and ran over towards the small group “What’s going on?!” “The infected ones are here, they killed William and a few others” Ivy looked over towards a pile of bloody clothes only to assume that was the rest of William “Where’s Harvey?” she grabbed the shirt of the other male “Where is my daughter!?” “They… She… I don’t know what really happened, it was as if she was one of them and started the attacking along with them!” she pushed him back into the group, scanning her surroundings before making a bee-line dash for her arrows and bow, quickly equipping herself “Get to the horses by the road and go towards Falk and don’t stop for anything or anyone” and with that she left them, not knowing this would be the last time she’d see any of them.

    She started tracking the traces of blood that where splattered all over the forest ground, when she finally got to a clearing in the woods she ducked behind a bush to see a group of the infected ones, dragging bodies into the cave near by, she saw her daughter on the ground, torn up, Ivy closed her eyes as a tears started rolling down her cheeks, her only daughter, dead. "At least she is with her father now" she started to slowly move in closer sticking to the outside of the brush, suddenly a hand from no where wrapped around her mouth to keep her from screaming, she smelled death behind her "What do we have here? Hmm? Another body to feed" the voice was that of a mans, who spun her around getting a good look at one another he let her go and slowly backed away into the darkness "Sorry for disturbing you, Ill take my leave now" her heart started racing faster then it was, she made note of the location before heading off to somewhere else that would be safer, shed come back later to bury her daughter, but for now she had to get away from this place.
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    As she walked down to their house she was trying to figure out the puzzle that lied before her. She was thinking back to yesterday and last night. She did remember hearing two guards talk about some type of disease and how it was spreading slowly yet surely. They also talked about traveling groups of refugees and how the city might have to closed down to prevent the spread of this disease. Of course they added their talk of the bards college, and how Lisette had more than one usages of her mouth( which made Sheila sick. She hates when pig guards squeal and talk about a beautiful woman) She did over hear talks from the bard's college. Bards love to talk and love gossip. Gives them something to "sing" about. That is why she is very cautious in what she says and is said about her. Bards have a tendency to be over dramatic. Don't get her wrong she plays the flute ( reminds her of her home. The enamoring melody of the flute, especially when it is playing her homelands forest hymns. She does miss her home and family, and the little friends she has there. Avia was more of the social one) and she does like some bards and loves the romantic tales they tell, but often those tales needs gossip and stories to be told. Often they are over dramatic to give it more flare. Maybe she can talk to Lisette. She found a friend in the bard. Which was funny seeing how they were the opposite in personality.

    She strolled down the street playing with her dagger, this would also warn any people to back off. The sound of singing voices, drums, and other instruments grew louder and closer. She then saw her friend staring out to the ocean and practicing. "Lisette my friend! Been a while. I came here to ask you something. I hope you have some answers." she approached Lisette and leaned against the nearest wall. "A question aye? Well then ask away, maybe I have the answer you are seeking." she got done playing one song, and was now tuning to play another. " I have heard rumors of a sort of disease that is spreading. Has the guards on their toes that's for sure. Have you heard any other newss?" "Some. I heard that people are getting infected. They seem alright and normal, even quite civil but those are the "higher ones" some newly transformed ones are like human animals. Bursting into flames upon direct contact with the sun, they howl like a crazed dog, but are capable of some normal functions. I have told you all that I know."

    Lisette was being cautious and coy. Sheila knew, but she has an advantage. "Maybe I saw something that would very much interest you. Something quite big. Something that maybe involve a guard, blood, and a lot of arrows?" Lisette stopped plucking and swiveled her head suddenly "Tell me! I need to know. What happened??" She got Lisette in her grip "Maybe I will tell you if you have any other information and if you promise me if I come back you will help. Is that a deal?" She had a leg up. "Yes! Now tell me!" "Ah thats better. Well When I woke up I saw a sudden spike in guards and guard activity around the gate and gate towers. So I climbed my way to the top and saw a guard barking orders to back up to a group of refugees. Apparently he shot and killed a woman for coming too close to the city gates. Solitude is now sealed off. I think the guards are on alert to this disease. I think we can't leave the city." Lisette was open mouthed. "That explains why the guards said to be home before nightfall and to lock our doors. We thought it a thief or bandits but now that we are talking about this, it makes sense. They even had to put some small restrictions on merchants and where they got their stocks from. By the gods, this is bad isn't it?" "Aye. Without a doubt it is"
     

    Therin

    Active Member
    Therin tracked the wolf with his eyes as it limped back to the edge of the clearing. It had been a bold move to attack his flock in the middle of the day, and Therin had repaid the wolf in kind by injuring its leg. His sling was reloaded with a small stone and swung lazily at his side, like a pendulum. Therin judged the distance between himself and the wolf, and realized that it was still in range of his sling, although his accuracy at this distance was minimal. When the wolf stopped and looked back at the flock, Therin took the opportunity of a stationary target and circled his sling once, releasing the stone towards the wolf. The stone missed its target and hit a nearby rock, but it was enough to cause the beast to turn and retreat further into the forest. A soft growl on Therin's left side made him turn as he was reloading the sling with another stone.

    "Dax, stay!" Therin commanded to his wolfhound. He had lost his previous dog to a particularly wily pack of wolves, who had sent out a lone member to act as bait. When Therin's last dog had chased the wolf into the forest, and away from Therin's aid, the pack had pounced on the poor dog and ripped it to shreds. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

    Therin continued to watch the treeline for any movement. After he was reasonably sure the wolf wasn't going to attack again, he switched his attention to the injured sheep. It had wandered too close to the forest's edge, and Therin had been too slow with his sling. The wolf had managed to bite the sheep's leg, but upon closer inspection, it hadn't done too much damage. Therin took a small piece of cloth from his haversack and wrapped it around the sheep's wound as it bleated piteously.

    "Perhaps this will teach you to stay closer to the flock," Therin admonished to the wayward sheep. With that task complete, Therin picked up his haversack and crook and began walking south, whistling a familiar melody that the sheep knew meant for them to follow.

    He still had a few weeks before he needed to venture to Rorikstead and shear the sheep, but he was running out of supplies. Luckily, he had a standing agreement with a local farmer, who offered to resupply Therin with provisions, so he didn't have to go into town. Therin's father had set up the herding route years ago, and the farmers--or they're children--on that route still honored the deals. Judging by Magnus' position in the sky, the farmer's son should already be at the meeting place.

    * * *​
    When Therin finally approached the rendez-vous area--a small, rocky outcrop on the side of a slope--he saw no sign of the boy that was to meet him. A cache of supplies were sitting out in the sun, a small distance away from the outcropping. Therin assumed the boy had waited for him, but was eager to be back to the farm, and so left the packages there. As Therin approached the site, Dax froze and softly growled out a warning while staring at the outcrop. Therin followed the dog's gaze to a shadowy area beneath the overhanging rock. He couldn't see anything in the darkness, but his eyes weren't as good as the dog's. Nor his sense of smell and hearing, for that matter. He shrugged his pack off his back and laid it next to the other packages. Keeping his crook held defensively across his body , Therin tentatively approached the shadow.​
    "Bronn?" he called out. "Are you in there? Its Therin."​
    He heard a suppressed cough and a boy's voice call out weakly from the dimness. "Please, don't come near me. I'm sick."​
    Therin disregarded the warning and continued to advance, wanting to offer whatever succor he could to the kid. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the ten-year old boy curled up against the rock, as far away from the sunlight as possible. Therin got on his hands and knees and crawled under the rock to where Bronn sat.​
    The kid looked horrible. His skin was pale, almost translucent and his breathing was pained and labored. A small puddle of vomitus lay nearby, its stench overbearing in such a confined place. Bronn looked too weak to be able to move, and Therin realized the boy was about to die.​
    "Why did they send you if you were so sick," Therin asked, feeling guilty that the boy had to come all this way, in this condition, just for him.​
    "I was fine this morning," the boy croaked, barely moving anything but his lips. "My brothers came back from Rorikstead two days ago. They said the whole village was sick with something. They woke up yesterday and they were both sick, too. My parents woke up this morning with the sickness. I felt fine, so they told me to bring the supplies to you and hoped that you would look after me for a time. I started feeling it on my way here. I crawled under this rock so you wouldn't find me; I was hoping you wouldn't catch it, too. You should go...it may not be too late."​
    It seemed like the boy's speech took the last of his energy away from him. His head sagged down and his eyes, the color leeched from the irises to become a filmy, grey color became unfocused, and his chest stopped moving. Before Therin could think to do anything, Bronn was dead. He didn't know the boy well, but sadness welled up in his heart, nonetheless. Risking infection, Therin reached out and gently closed the boy's eyes. Taking his crook in hand, Therin began to back out of the small crawlspace to begin searching for rocks to build the boy a proper cairn.​
    As he backed out of the mouth of the tunnel, Therin took one last look at Bronn, wishing deep down that the boy was still alive. Unfortunately, he was in exactly the same motionless position he was in before, his grey, colorless eyes staring ahead of him. Therin moved his arm once to back-crawl out of the outcrop when he suddenly froze. His mind shouted at him, but at first he couldn't understand what it was trying to say, only that it was saying it emphatically. Only a moment had passed, but it seemed like Therin's brain took years to comprehend what it saw. He looked again to make sure and, sure enough, the boy's eyes were open, lifelessly looking ahead of him. Nothing else moved, but Therin was positive that he had closed Bronn's eyes before backing up. The kid's eyes moved suddenly, immediately focusing on Therin. A hunger quickly developed in them that Therin had never seen in a human before. The hunger spread from the eyes, as if the body was remembering how to move. The boy's head cocked to the side, as it leaned forward and began crawling towards Therin.​
    The shepherd wasted no time in retreating out into the sunlight and standing, backing away as quick as he could while keeping his eyes on the outcrop. After being in the darkness, the sun's light made Therin squint and he was unable to focus on anything until his eyes adjusted. He heard, more than saw, the monster erupt from the rock's shadow, its bestial scream made more unnerving in the child's voice. The blurry shape lunged at Therin; he swung his shepherd's crook and, with more luck than skill, hit the boy-monster square in the head. It fell motionless to the side of Therin, whose eyes finally readjusted to the brightness. Within a matter of seconds, he saw the boy's pallid skin turn pink in the sun's rays. The pink quickly turned to red as the monster regained its consciousness and roared, whether in pain or anger or hunger, Therin couldn't say. It came towards him again, but this time Therin could see and time his strike. The head of the oaken crook hit the boy squarely in the temple and the thing again collapsed to the ground. Before it had a chance to do anything, the reddened skin started welting. It burst into flames before it regained full consciousness and started screaming in pain. Therin backed away slowly, but it seemed that the monster had lost interest in him. It stumbled back towards the shadow beneath the rock, but didn't make it before it collapsed and stopped moving. The smell coming from the charred remains of the boy was more than Therin could handle, as he stooped over and emptied his stomach onto the ground.​
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    Sheila took the information with caution. Most of it was probably just a bard being over dramatic. So she took some of the info as false, but still took it into consideration. She has learned to only trust the basic points when it comes to bards. "That Lisette has a knack for the over dramatic. I mean really! These "infected" burst into flames when the sun hits them? Oh and they let out howls like crazed animals? Sounds more like a fable version of a vampire then something of this world. It looks like I will have to TALK to people!" She shuddered at the thought. She is not a big fan of talking to people. "Maybe I can ask sis. Surely she is up by now. I want to know more about this. It has piqued my interest." She was walking to the shop they owned. If anybody knew more information it would be her sister. Avia is the social butterfly of the two. After a few minutes of walking and thinking she arrived at their shop. She proceeded to enter and was welcomed to the sound of her sister's calming voice selling and bragging about Sheila's crafting skill. This made her feel extra proud. She loved her sister a lot. They have been through a lot together. From moving out of their village for the first time, Avia consoling and teaching her to stick up for herself, to traveling the world. Sheila was glad she had a sister like Avia.

    "Avi, I'm back! Sorry for leaving out of nowhere." she gave her sister a big hug. " It's quite alright. How are you doing? I missed you here!" "I missed you too dear. I am okay, I actually have a question or two I would like to ask you if you don't mind." "of course I don't. Shoot!" They were very loving to each other. "Have you heard anything of a disease spreading? Or anybody getting infected? Have the guards been acting strange to you lately?" "Well the guards always act strange Ila, but i have heard of a disease far from solitude and how the guards are on high alert. That's about it. The only thing people still talks about is this damn war, Talos, and how these Hammerfell mercenaries have curved swords. curved. swords. Why do you ask sis?" "You know me, always curious. I found it weird that the guards would close off the city. Do you think we are free to leave as we please?" Sheila decided to put some work in, it helps her think and she feels bad for leaving Avi to work alone. "Doubtful, if they closed off the city. This disease must have the guards worried. Maybe refugees are asking for access to the city but the guards are denying them so they don't spread it. Like I said I haven't heard much about it. I definitely haven't heard any truth to these claims. Oh thanks for helping by the way! Luckily this is a quite day." Avia said while she was looking over bows, and bows that were there for repair. "Don't mention it. Least I could do. Thanks for the answers. Seems like I'm getting more questions though. I wonder if I could sneak out. Just for a walk. Nothing else. Maybe even a nice read by the sea. I've been having trouble falling asleep, maybe that would help." "Maybe. But just be careful. You know what happened the last time you sneaked out. The guards don't take kindly to getting fooled. You know, it shakes their confidence." Avia said laughing. "Of course. Seeing how the guards are ssooo smart." They were both laughing. After a while things settled and the work and customers finally picked up...
     

    Delusional

    Connoisseur of Hallucinations
    Silann shouldered open the door to his home with such strength the noise resounded off the cobblestone walls of their small cottage and woke his wife and son with a start. He rushed to his wife's bedside, and began anxiously talking as he sifted through drawers and cupboards, frantically pulling the family's possessions from their now former storage containers.

    "Oh, gods, Nania, I am so afraid." Silann bolted around the house, shoveling food and provisions into roughspun sacks, throwing clothes and books into worn knapsacks. "Silann, honey, calm down, please, for the love of Akatosh." Nania's voice was still rough from sleep, and her eyes were half closed as she rose from the bed to comfort the frantic Silann. Her arms wrapped around his torso gently, and he stopped dead in his tracks, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to relax, temporarily soothed by his wife's presence.

    "Okay, baby, what is the problem?" Nania's calm voice put Silann at rest, and he dropped the knapsack he had clutched in his hand and turned to embrace her. "Start at the beginning." Nania planted a kiss on Silann's cheek, and stepped back, listening attentively.

    Silann took a deep breath and started at the beginning. "I was awoken by the sound of unrest outside. You know I am a light sleeper, and the slightest noise can stir me." Silann glanced around their cottage, searching for a chair, his racing mind forgetting his own home. "I dressed, and went outside to see what the trouble was. There was a crowd gathered at the gate, and a man who had dismounted a steed in the center." He finally spotted a chair, and reached for it, dragging it along the rough stone floor to where Silann stood shakily.

    "I ran to the crowd, and shoved my way to the front. I asked the man personally, hoping he would listen to a polite and reasonable request." He collapsed into the chair, and his head fell into his hand. "The man was suddenly knocked off his feet, and I grabbed the letter he had in hand that he said was for the Jarl."

    "Nania, it's a epidemic. A dangerious outbreak of a virus, spider webbing from that wretched swamp of a hold, Hjaalmarch." He raised his head to gaze deep into Nania's eyes. "I am afraid. We need to leave. We need to find somewhere safe to hide."

    Silann lifted himself from the chair and wrapped his arms around his wife, who returned the gesture.

    She looked up into her fearful husband's eyes, and nodded slowly, and kissed Silann's cheek once more.

    "Then let's pack, quickly. I know of just the place to go," Silann said, the anxiety returning to him, and he began packing again, this time slightly less frantically, and with the help of his beautiful wife and son, who just rose from bed.


    ᴥ​

    It did not take long for the family to pack up their belongings, leaving their cozy cottage vacant, empty and void of life. Silann led them outside, where one could smell the fear in the air. The town was in chaos, and just so enough that Silann, Nania and Jericho, their thirteen year old son were able to slip out of the town silently and unseen, and begin their journey of survival, in the dead of the night, padding softly down the moist cobblestone road that led off deep into the dim forest of Falkreath.

    (OOC - I've decided I will not color my text until Silann comes into contact with one of you guys. Makes the posts look cleaner.)
     

    rizen

    A to the K homeboy
    Having been forcefully ordered to stay clear of Solitude's gates, and fighting the urge to shoot a snappy remark to the city guard lest they reply with arrows; Tatum retreated slowly back along the path he had already traversed that day. He stopped at an outcropping of rocks, removed his pack and let the cool air sweep across his sweat drenched back. He slid his hand beneath the collarline of his shirt and rubbed some life back into his raw shoulders. Everything hurt.
    He sat on a small boulder and relished in the burden taken from his feet. He slid off a boot to massage at the callous forming on the sole of his foot and considered...There was no place to go, too late and too tired to make it to anywhere else. He would wait for the remaining company to catch up, warn them about what had happened and perhaps find shelter within their surrounding numbers.

    The sky had taken to dwindling remnant colors of the day, putrid yellows and purples like a bruise. Tatum nodded in and out of consciousness. Spent. If not for the cooling air, he would already be asleep, curled up enjoying the remaining heat absorbed by the rocks. Doubts had begun to creep into his mind...why hadn't they caught up yet?

    Tatum_sketch.jpg

    The trees that jutted just off the path were thin and easy to peer through when the sun was higher but now shadows cloaked the underbrush. Something rustled, Tatum squinted in the direction of the noise and even harder at anything that he thought was moving out there...and then it dawned upon him...FATTY!...that was why, right now they'd be setting up camp because fatty couldn't get his oversized rear end moving! It'd be midday before they even - A twig snapped much closer, Tatum got to his feet, ignored the pain and shouldered his pack. His sight cast out, scanning, searching for movement. No longer anticipating the owner of the sounds to make an appearance, Tatum decided to venture back towards the camp. They'd be lighting a fire, yes, fire was good...he would follow...
    "Hulloo, mistah!"
    "GAH!" Tatum jumped back and clutched at his chest. His face reddened to a dark crimson.
    He held up a finger to take a moment, swallowed and shook his head "Dammit all boy! you don't go about spooking folks like that!"
    A shabby looking young man stood before him, fit into poorly homemade mud smeared clothes, how he had managed to sneak up behind Tatum was a complete mystery.
    The young man simply shrugged.
    "Whaddya want, boy!?" blurted out Tatum.
    The young man ignored his question "Yoo shoon't be walkin bout withn' no boot, mistah" he said.
    "Yoo what now?" Tatum looked down at his foot, his big toe wiggled back at him from the hole in his sock. The young man ripped into peals of laughter "Hoppn' bout like a Coney, yoo is, mistah!" he clapped and laughed some more at his own wit.
    Tatum gathered up his boot and slid it back on. He frowned at the young man, who was now wiping away tears. His face was remarkably smooth, almost childlike.
    "You're not all there are you, boy?...You simple or something?"
    The young man drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest "Mama says Kyle is just how Kyle is a'posed tah be". The young man towered above Tatum, he had to be at least 7 feet tall.
    "Ok, Ok" Tatum held up his hands in surrender for the second time that day "So you're Kyle, yeah?"
    Kyle nodded.
    "Well Kyle...My name is Tatum, but 'mistah' suits me fine. You live around here? I need somewhere to stay tonight. They wont let me into the city" he jerked his head back towards Solitude's gates "Do you suppose that your mama might know what to do?"
    Kyle considered, looking towards Solitude "They killn' normal folk" he muttered almost beneath his breath.
    Tatum wondered what that had meant, but before he could ask Kyle had made his decision, he flashed a smile, his large arm shot out and pointed "Home tah the Farm" he said with deliberate finality.
    Kyle led Tatum by the crook of his elbow, seeming somewhat annoyed at the oldman's pace. Kyle took large strides but remained polite about his annoyance.
    "Aint safe outsiden' nite, anyhow" Kyle mentioned in passing as if talking about the weather.
    "Whaddya mean by that?" Tatum asked through laboured breaths "Day's just the same...the same...as night time".
    Kyle stopped and shook his head at Tatum, a calm seriousness stretched across his features.
    "Mistah Tatum simple. No boot. Hoppn' bout like a Coney iffn' aint Kyle say so" with that Kyle erupted into more laughter...Kyle chuckled to himself for the remainder of the walk.
     

    Therin

    Active Member
    Therin spat the remainder of the vomit on the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He continued to take deep breaths, willing his stomach to settle. When he was sure that the nausea had finally passed, he opened his eyes and looked off into the distance. A noise coming from where the creature had fallen snapped Therin's attention to the one place he didn't want to look.

    "Dax, away!" Therin commanded in a brusque tone when he realized that the sound was just his dog sniffing around the corpse of the corpse. The dog backed away at the sound of his voice, retreating with his tail between his legs to where Therin still crouched. Readjusting his position so that he sat on a large rock, Therin began pondering what he should do. His whole life had been following in the footsteps of his father, continuing the same route that his forebear had set up for him, but his father had never planned for this.

    "I don't know what to do," Therin admitted to the dog, as it came over and sat at his feet. Off aways, the herd of sheep grazed over the hillside, oblivious to what had just happened.

    "Could that thing have been a vampire?" he asked to no one in particular. His father had told him stories of those afflicted with sanguine vampiris, or porphyric hemophilia as it was known back in High Rock. But those stories had been just that; tales told to frighten and entertain children. Sure, rumors spread every once in a while about vampires, but nothing concrete had ever been found. They were the only creature, real or imagined, that Therin knew of that was so affected by sunlight.

    Therin stood and began pacing, his nervousness finally showing. "Whatever afflicted the boy, he said his whole family suffered from it, and that they got it from Rorikstead." Could all of them have been infected, too? His house was only a day's travel from the village; was that too close to risk an attack? The more he thought about the situation, the more questions arose in his mind. Finally, his brain settled on one thought.

    "The first thing we need to do is find someplace that's safe," he said, matter of factly, to Dax. "From there, we can scout around to find out more about what's happening." With this thought in mind, Therin rummaged around in his haversack until he found his well-worn leather map. He perused the myriad landmarks scattered throughout his herding zone. The closest fortification was an abandoned fort in the southeast portion of the Reach. With any luck, he could guide his herd over the hilly landscape and be there before the next nightfall. It seemed as good a place as any, since there were no villages or towns within several days worth of travelling. With his mind made up, Therin collected his things, adding the packages the boy had delivered, set off towards the south, hoping to push the herd as far as he could before dusk.

    "Come on, Dax," he said. "We're heading to Fort Sunguard."
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?


    The sun has retreated from the sky, now the moon has taken over. The shop was quite and empty. All except the sound of the forge and her. She decided to put out extra work versus what she normally does. She will also practice forging swords and she wants to keep her elven smithing sharp. Her and her sister both learned how to forge elven weapons, and swords. Sheila prides herself on forging, so she keeps that skill and forge ever ready. With that comes a lot of practice. All the rumors of this infection has been swimming around in her mind like a slaughterfish. She was also thinking of the woman the guard shot down. Was it that serious? Bad enough to put someone in the ground? She hates over thinking, and this is one of the reasons why. It can ruin the whole night. With that thought she was done. She packed up her things, picked up her book, and fastened her sheath at her lower back. She wears her sheath in all sorts of ways, depending on how she feels and where she is at. She will fasten it at her back when she is at home, or on nights like these, then she will have it on her hip for easy access, and when she is not in the mood to be trifled with, and finally in her boot if she is at a fancy event, in a friends house, and so forth. The book she is reading is "The locked room"; A book of how a student and how she out smarted and out locked her cruel instructor.

    The door quietly closed behind her. She took a shortcut down the shops path to the city streets. The night air was cool, it was relaxing. The streets were pretty much empty. Merchants have closed shops, guards have limited their patrols, and everybody is in their homes. There were shady characters at night, lurking about, but that is why she straps her short blade. Long enough to scare and gut, but short enough to conceal. After thirty minutes or so of walking, she was home. She walked up the way and entered the home. She was greeted by a warm fire and her sister preparing dinner. Avia had the culinary touch, something Sheila lacked. Sure she knows how to make good venison, but Avia can make anything taste beyond good. Sheila hung up her pack on the antler rack by the door (which was caught by sheila) she then put the book down on the table by the dining table. She walked up to her room to go change. She unbuckled her boots, put on a linen shirt, and put up her work clothes up. By the time she was done the food was ready. It was time to eat.

    Dinner was freshly cooked venison with a side of broiled potatoes with some cherry spiced wine to wash it all down. While both girls are tough, and can handle a sword, bow and a battle, they are also the flip side of each other. Avia is more caring,social, and affectionate, Sheila is more, reserved, quite, introverted, and only shows affection to those she really cares about, or has a liking to. After dinner they often talk, and sheila often reads while talking.

    "How was your side of work Avi?" Sheila said while turning the page. "Oh it was good. Fihada came in asking for any spare arrowheads, He even offered to pay while he praised you're work." "It's your work to Avi. It's not all me." "But you practice and do it day after day. You make great arrows. Not to mention good elven weapons." "Well thanks sis." "Oh and Jawanan came by to see how you were doing, and wanted to see if you would exchange tips or maybe even teach him." Avia said while fiddling with her food. "You know I'm not a people person Avi. I can barely talk to our customers let alone teach someone." "You need more friends. I'm not saying date him, I'm just saying take him up on his offer, and make a new friend! You might like it." By this point Avi was playfully poking her sister with a fork. "Fine I will give it a try." Sheila said laughing while playfully swatting the fork away. "Gah I'm going to bed. See you in the morning." Sheila called it a night. Avia followed shortly after.
     

    Delusional

    Connoisseur of Hallucinations
    The moonlight barely penetrated the thick pines of Falkreath, leaving the mysterious forest shrouded in darkness, and baring down on the narrow, worn path that cut through the trees. Moisture dripped off the pines of the foliage and formed a thin layer of dew that covered the tall, intrusive grass.

    Silann led his family down the dirt path that snaked it's way through the forest. He had taken them off the main road, fearing interaction with the epidemic. This side road was certainly the least traveled path Silann could have chose, though. The worn dirt that formed the path had been overtaken by vegetation for the most part, leaving little dirt to even call a path. Shrubbery and tall grass brushed against the Redguard gently, as if it was yearning for him.

    The man turned to glance back at his family, hoping they were able to keep up with his rather quick pace. His wife Nania had a heavy brown cloak draped over her shoulders, and she kept the worn cloth tightly wrapped around herself. Jericho was by her side, in a simple leather tunic with several sacks and bags draped over his shoulders and in his sweaty hands.

    "I think we are almost to the safehouse. Keep it up, we have to move quickly." Silann spoke calmly, yet with urgency. The initial anxiousness had worn off and departed; Silann still maintained a rapid pace, urging his wife and son to hurry.

    Silann turned back forward and kept moving, traversing the narrow, nearly nonexistent path with ease. His trusty axe hung from his black leather belt, and he, like his son, had several bags draped across his shoulders and over his back. The forest seemed infinite, branches and foliage meeting his gaze at every turn.

    ᴥ​
    After a short while, the trees separated and gave way to a large clearing. A small shack sat in the middle, surrounded by grass that invaded the wooden structure and made the shanty its new home. Silann rushed to the shack, and pushed the tall grass aside in order to reach the door. He turned back and beckoned for Nania and Jericho to follow him before shoving the aged door open and stepping inside.​
    A wretched smell floated in the air inside the shanty - a smell of death, decay. Silann cringed at the smell as he began surveying the room, searching for something. A bed in the corner, sheepskin blankets messily thrown on top, a large desk, crippled and collapsed on the floor, a bookshelf void of books.​
    It was something he found. A trapdoor concealed by a large, empty barrel. He spotted the handle of the hidden entrance and bolted to it, pulling the barrel off of the trapdoor with a quiet grunt. He knelt down on the musty floor and grabbed the rusty, iron handle. With all of his might, he dislodged the hatch and pulled it up with several grunts. His wife peeked in the room, but immediately retreated from the rancid stench.​
    A ladder descended from the opening, old and rickety. Silann cautiously tested the ladder before carefully climbing down into the dark abyss of a cellar. He fumbled around the room, searching for a candle or lantern or any other source of light.​
    His hands wrapped around an iron cage, one of which that belonged to a lantern. He pulled it towards him and reached into his bag for a firestarter. After a short while, a flame sparked in the cage, and the room was illuminated with a weak, dim yellow.​
    Silann gazed around the bunker, hoping to find it useful to hole up in. He had discovered the shanty some time ago when scouting the pine forests of Falkreath, and met the man, the old hermit that took up residence in the shack. They had become friends, and Silann had delivered supplies to the man for some time now.​
    The sight he saw was not a pleasant one. Silann's face twisted in disgust as his gaze fell upon the corner of the cellar.​
    A rope was hung from a wooden post in the ceiling, taut from the weight it carried. The rope - no, it was a noose - Silann made the realization rather quickly. The noose was tightened around the neck of a man. The man who had lived here, the old hermit that Silann had befriended. His skin was pale, and lifeless. The rope bruised and chafed his neck where it tightened, leaving the skin raw, purple and dark red.​
    A slip of paper hung gingerly from the dead man's fingers. Silann quickly plucked the note from the hermit's grasp and opened it up.​
    Silann, I know you are reading this. I know you will travel here for safe haven. Listen to me, now. Here is not safe. Nowhere is safe. They are coming. They are here. They will find you. They found me.
    Silann felt tears escaping his eyes and he finished reading the note. He took one last look at the lifeless body that hung suspended from the rafters before wiping the tears from his cheeks and ascending the ladder.​
    What do I do now?
     

    rizen

    A to the K homeboy
    Tatum was ushered along, rather than led by the gigantic Kyle to a modest farmstead cottage. It was harder to determine with the darkening skies, but the open land of field and silhouettes of hay stacks could just be made out. He noticed the cart parked alongside the building, spilling with vegetation - it was hard not to - the smell was ripe and Tatum figured the crops had been left there for at least a few days. He figured that if Solitude wasn't already hungry, they would soon be or at least make some allowances for supply deliveries. He also noted a cart - but no horse.
    "Where's the horse for your cart there, boy?"
    "Gone" Kyle simply said "Kyle 'postah take the cart uppin' the path but they aint let nobody near em now"
    They entered the house, Kyle bent forward and ducked his head to avoid the frame. It was comforting, small but homely. Kyle's mother sat at the table, a surprisingly thin and spry woman, her face ran through a series of mixed expressions within seconds - anger, concern, relief, followed by surprise and suspicion at the unexpected appearance of a visitor. Before Tatum had a chance to turn on the charm, Kyle took the initiative
    "Mama, they aint let him in" Kyle said. His nonchalant tone dissolved, he sounded like a mewling kitten, like a child pleading to keep a stray animal they found in the woods. This wasn't far from the truth. Tatum wondered for a fleeting moment if Kyle's mother beat him, regardless of the size difference.
    "Well- " she said to Kyle "you know well to be indoors before it's late, Kyle. Now lock that door behind you"
    She cast an evaluating eye over Tatum for an uncomfortable moment "Neighborly thing to do is offer you supper, I suppose"
    "Thank you ma'am" Tatum replied. He began removing his boots.
    "You aint wanna do that Mr" she said.
    Tatum stopped midway "Why's that ma'am? figure the polite thing-"
    I high pitched cackling laughter like a jackal sang out from nearby.
    The woman's voice dropped to a whisper "In case you gotta run".
     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    She walked outside for a bit. She couldn't sleep. Well at least not through the night. This happens a lot, so tonight was no different. She sat in the chair on their porch as she was feeling her head and ran her hand down her face due to her headache. Night was almost gone, she could her the birds singing a melancholy tune. The sky had a light tint to it like sunlight creeping in a shuttered church. The only people on the streets were the guards and the poor. After about 20 minutes she went back inside to make some Canis root tea, grab a book, and he flute in case it strikes her fancy. As she was making her tea she swept her hair back and thought to herself if she would find someone that understands her. Maybe it's all those books she has read about love, and romance. She hates most people, not all. Often people put up walls to keep people out and to see who will try their damnedest to break through them. She was a pretty girl, who is just private in herself. The walls have been up for a while now. She doesn't view it as bad because she is comfortable in herself and couldn't care what anybody thinks about her. Although it does get a bit lonely, even with Avia and her miniscule group of friends. She views love as something special and a fallacy. Love to her is subjective, ever changing. It can make you feel so special and at the same time so alone. She for a short while felt alone. No one to hold her, to laugh at her jokes, or even to train with. The standard for her is high. "Hmmm they need to love to read and write. That is a must. What is the point if you can't have a decent conversation with them? They have to have a realistic, pragmatic yet good look of the world. I'm all for practicality and realism, for everything as a matter of fact! Love is no different. Of course I want them to be able to work with me! On the forge, train, hunt, in bed." She said laughing outloud. The tea was done. She took a sip and was transported to the time when she and her sister traveled across Skyrim. Often drinking it while hunting or camping.

    With her tea in hand she went back outside, took a seat, then cracked open "The locked room". She was really enjoying it. She just started and wanted to space out the book to last her a bit, so she decided to read a paragraph or two. Which wasn't her norm. This was actually her first try to read it. She tried before but between headaches, work, and still thinking about these rumors floating around, she never got around to it. This is the perfect time to begin the book. She felt the spine of the book, got comfortable then started to read. Her eyes hunting the words like game.

    "Yana was precisely the kind of student her mentor Arthcamu despised: the professional amateur. He enjoyed all the criminal types who were his usual pupils at the stronghold, from the common burglar to the more sophisticated blackmailers, children and young people with strong career ambitions which the art and science of lockpicking could facilitate. They were always interested in simple solutions, the easy way, but people like Yana were always looking for exceptions, possibilities, exotica. For pragmatists like Arthcamu, it was intensely vexing." She was sipping her tea gradually, mainly to enjoy it. She used a small cup perfect for the amount of reading. "The Redguard maiden would spend hours in front of a lock, prodding at it with her wires and picks, flirting with the key pins and driver pins, exploring the hull with a sort of casual fascination that no delinquent possesses. Long after her fellow students had opened their test locks and moved on, Yana was still playing with hers. The fact that she always opened it eventually, no matter how advanced a lock it was, irked Arthcamu even further.“You are making things much too difficult,” he would roar, boxing her ears. “Speed is of the essence, not merely technical know-how. I swear that if I put the key to the lock right in front of you, you'd still never get around to opening it."

    She looked up from the last word and saw that the sky was brighter. It was the morning, and the merchants justed started setting up, and people just started getting up and flowing onto the streets. As much as she wanted to continue reading, she has to wake her sister up, get dressed, and down to work. She strolled inside, her hips swaying like a flag in the wind. Her hair was pulled back in a tail. she got her clothes on, poked her sister until she woke up, made her bad as Avia did the same, waited for Avi to get dressed, took her pack off the rack, and went out the door with her sister and began for the shop.

     

    Wolfbane

    Why change the past when you can own this day?
    Business had been slow the past few days. It was peacefully quite inside the shop. The forge was resting, along with the sisters, who do not mind a slow work day. Sheila pulled out her book while Avia was looking over the stock and doing one last count for the week. Solitude was not a quite city, but today was a quite, still day. Not a lot of people were out or about. Maybe the talk of the this plague has spread? The thought of this plague still bothered Sheila. The thought of footwork, and asking questions were coming to surface more and more she thought about it. Numerous thoughts popped in her head. "I wonder if I should go out and ask people about this? I wonder if we need more meat and fur for the house? I could use the peace and quite. I guess I'll stay in the city for a bit. I could also do some questioning at the same time. So many options." she thought to herself while fiddling with an arrow.

    "Sister, would it be okay if I went about the city? It's a slow day. You can come too! I hear the bards are in the midst of preparations for the burning of king Olaf. Bards love a good Valenwood folk tale. Not to mention we could set up targets the day of. I will even come with you!" "What's this? My sister wants to be social! What are you hiding? Sure you can go about the town, whenever you want to go the bard's college swing by to let me know." Avia said laughing. "Will do!" Sheila packed up her stuff, swung by the house, then went to questioning and thinking.

    She didn't have a lot to go on, so she walked around with her ears open. The barracks would be a good spot to try, so she went there. Luckily there was a stall hearing distance from the barracks. Besides, she needed some food for home, so she could wait. Shortly after some shopping, two guards came out and started talking about the local brothel for a time. "By gods the prostitutes in there aren't all that good! Well except that Bosmer girl and that Nord man. Hmmmmm the thoughts." She was drifting off in a sensual dream. "Need to stay focused." When she snapped out of it the guards finally began talking about this disease. "Did you hear that the rest of the cities are closed? Makarth just closed their gates to stop in and out traffic. We need to do the same. More and more refugees are showing up. I don't want them to die by arrows, but if they don't stop it might have to come to that." "Don't worry, it won't. We will have men posted up out there. Anything else about the infected?" "No. This disease itself is still a rumor and is being handled that way. No need for a panic." "True. We need to get back to it." "Aye" With that the guards went back to their duties. "Handled as a rumor? Cities closing? There is more to this story, I know it. I need to write all of what I hear down. It could prove useful in the coming days. I need a place to store my findings as well, so it's essential. For now I'm just go back to the shop and make a few things. Gives me time to think. Hmm plus the thoughts of the Bosmer and Nord are creeping in, might as well enjoy them." she said as she was strolling to the shop. She thought she might as well get some work finished if she wanted to have more time to pursue these leads...
     

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