Erna
The corridors wound around and around in the darkness, seemingly endless and at impossible angles, physics discarded as they wound round each other like the intestines of some colossal beast born within the deepest pits of Oblivion.
As far as Erna could tell, he had only been within the depths of this shrine for a few minutes, yet already it felt as if he had been wandering for hours. He wasn't afraid. He knew that, once recognised, anything within here would grant him passage, should anything remain in these depths. And if it didn't, then he would be killed. No great loss-he'd still win in the long run.
He rounded a corner and then, without warning, found himself within a large hall. Torches in brackets were bolted the eight pillars that supported the cavernous room, their flames a sputtering, dirty crimson. It was what was at the far end that caught Erna's attention.
Behind a great bowl, filled with flame, stood a colossal statue of Mehrunes Dagon. His great axe was in one hand, his spike and barbed blade in the other, gemstone eyes glaring down at the doorway where Erna stood.
The dark elf smiled as he saw it.
"I'm back, master," he said quietly. "And my mission goes well."
This post has been edited by Colonel Mustard: Aug 28 2009, 01:54 PM
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