Madrar
The Shadow in the Dark.
Nurian the masked stood before the gates of Whiterun. They'd been heavily reinforced since the last time Nurian had been there. For good reason, the masked altmer reflected, glancing at the slain undead scattered outside the walls.
"State your business!" A harassed looking captain shouted from atop the wall.
"I come to lend aid to the defenders of Whiterun. Though I can only do that if you open the gates." That wasn't strictly speaking true, but he preferred not to alienate potential allies.
"Then take off your mask. Let me see your face. "
The altmer wizard drew on his illusion magics "you don't need to see my face." He phrased it as a suggestion, letting the charm spell do its work.
"I- I don't need to see your face." The man agreed before turning to someone out of sight. "Open the gates!" Slowly, the iron reinforced doors swung open to admit Nurian. The elf stepped through, noting the team of men already hastening to close it.
All around him were emaciated humans, doubtlessly refugees who'd just come in moments before. Despite their sorry state, they seemed in high spirits. Some, though, merely slumped against the walls of houses, simply to exhausted to keep moving. One such individual was propped up against the guard barracks, clad in ebony armour and with a similarly dark cloak. A hat covered the upper portion of her face.
It seemed an odd place for a nap, but Nurian was not one to judge. Instead he moved onwards, towards the jarls palace. Dragonsreach, he believed it was called. Once inside, he moved up the wide staircase, but not towards the jarls' throne. Instead, he turned right, where a harrassed looking breton in wizards robes sat at a table covered in tomes. "You look tired, my friend."
The human jumped, then stared, a grin spreading across his face. "Nurian! Thank the divines you've come. Has the college had any luck deciphering this damned plague?"
The elven wizard shook his head. "None. But show me what notes you've taken, and perhaps we can discover something new."
The court mage nodded eagerly, retrieving a chair for his altmer friend. "Please, sit. I've gone out in the field a few times to examine the bodies, but we've been forced back by a fresh wave of undead before I can examine them properly, and the jarl refuses to have one of the bodies brought in for examination..."
Nurian sat and joined his fellow mage in reading through the scribbled notes. Searching for something, anything that would bring this plague to an end.
"State your business!" A harassed looking captain shouted from atop the wall.
"I come to lend aid to the defenders of Whiterun. Though I can only do that if you open the gates." That wasn't strictly speaking true, but he preferred not to alienate potential allies.
"Then take off your mask. Let me see your face. "
The altmer wizard drew on his illusion magics "you don't need to see my face." He phrased it as a suggestion, letting the charm spell do its work.
"I- I don't need to see your face." The man agreed before turning to someone out of sight. "Open the gates!" Slowly, the iron reinforced doors swung open to admit Nurian. The elf stepped through, noting the team of men already hastening to close it.
All around him were emaciated humans, doubtlessly refugees who'd just come in moments before. Despite their sorry state, they seemed in high spirits. Some, though, merely slumped against the walls of houses, simply to exhausted to keep moving. One such individual was propped up against the guard barracks, clad in ebony armour and with a similarly dark cloak. A hat covered the upper portion of her face.
It seemed an odd place for a nap, but Nurian was not one to judge. Instead he moved onwards, towards the jarls palace. Dragonsreach, he believed it was called. Once inside, he moved up the wide staircase, but not towards the jarls' throne. Instead, he turned right, where a harrassed looking breton in wizards robes sat at a table covered in tomes. "You look tired, my friend."
The human jumped, then stared, a grin spreading across his face. "Nurian! Thank the divines you've come. Has the college had any luck deciphering this damned plague?"
The elven wizard shook his head. "None. But show me what notes you've taken, and perhaps we can discover something new."
The court mage nodded eagerly, retrieving a chair for his altmer friend. "Please, sit. I've gone out in the field a few times to examine the bodies, but we've been forced back by a fresh wave of undead before I can examine them properly, and the jarl refuses to have one of the bodies brought in for examination..."
Nurian sat and joined his fellow mage in reading through the scribbled notes. Searching for something, anything that would bring this plague to an end.