WG- Another Shadow Over Hackdirt Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

I apologize for clogging the free-roaming Wobbly Goblet thread with our mission, as neither of us thought about making another thread(Until I did this morning.)

Once we get a hold of an Admin, we'll see abut putting the rest of the mission here. Until then our Hackdirt posts will be kept here.

[Darkness Eternal]

The black mist floated below the caverns over the remains of the dead brethren. Formless and invisible in the gloom, the mist traveled through the cracks and crevices of the tunnels and founds its way through the mines, at last reaching flying through a small head-sized hole in the well and out to the center of the town. The mist settled somewhere behind a broken-down wall and took the shape of a man.

The townspeople were out and about, mingling with each other about the loud noise that happened underneath. Draken had half a mind to leap in there and kill them all but that would be far too unwise and there was no purpose in their deaths. Nothing he could profit from other than personal gratification and petty revenge. That would be unacceptable to a man with such principle.

Making use of his stealth training, Draken blended with the shadows and crept alongside the broken down walls toward his horse. It was twilight. The sun was just sometime away from rising and he hasn’t fed.

“Aye, there was blood tracks from the caverns that led to her house. One of the prisoners escaped and killed her. The other I reckon is still under there.”

Draken’s face morphed into a scowl. She’s still alive.

The sense of responsibility overcame his desire to escape. He rushed to his steed, mounted on him and rode out of the town. While faint to the poor eyes of the peasants, Draken could detect the traces of blood all over the ground. He followed it, sticking toward the roads but otherwise using the very faint smell to lure him to the source.

He’d registered Kayla’s red waters when she was wounded in the caverns. He knew it belonged to her. All there is the matter of time. She’s wounded, surely, severely so judging by the loss of blood. Like wounded prey, he could run her down with his horse and kill her.

And so he goaded his horse into a gallop until he reached a part where his horse could not go. He dismounted, unsheathed his sword and marched into the woods where traces of her blood stood as evidence of her passage amongst the bushes and ferns.

Then, he sensed it. Guards. A small group of them coming from the end of the road from Chorrol. While many feet away that they couldn’t see his horse, Draken saw them and heard them coming.

“Hackdirt, she says. Never trusted those people. We'll finally be able to bring em justice.”

They are going to investigate a disturbance in Hackdirt. She’s safe behind the walls.

He swore silently. He couldn’t go into town. People knew him, and so did Kayla. If she so much as links him to the Hackdirt incident, it would raise unwanted questions. Draken was wise enough to know the innkeeper in Hackdirt believed he perished, and would cover any mention or tracks of Drathen at all costs and he was content to leave it that way. If the guards saw him now, his blood-stained clothes, dust-covered arms and grime-caked face they would surely inquire his whereabouts.

That, and the unfortunate reality that the sun was going to rise. The odds were against him. He had to retreat.

Draken rushed back to his horse and climbed, and decided it was best to leave for now.

“Hyaa!” he said, bringing the horse into acceleration as he raced the opposite direction of the road and away from the proximity of Chorrol. He’d have to find a way to kill Kayla. Surely a woman with such a sword would not go unnoticed despite her best efforts.

I’ll see to it that someone will find her. Perhaps hire that talented Lycanthropic woman once more. A gifted killer like her could get the job done. Her reputation has never failed her before.

A brilliant red glow came on the horizon, clearly visible past the trees, reminded him of a much more urgent issue. After creeping him for what felt like minutes, dawn was arriving. Was it just his mind, or could he already feel the heat upon his skin?

This is a serious problem.

The sky above was growing brighter by each passing second. Draken squinted at the encroaching radiance. The daylight obviously pained his eyes, making it hard for him to see. But even still he could view things in a harsh and brighter light and the next sight he saw brought hope to his heart. Nearby was a lone inn on the side of the road. The sign read: The Wobbly Goblet.

There. He would make his stay there before the Tyranny of the Sun reduced him to a steaming pile of ash and blood.

The sun rose a bit, rays spreading like hot fingers that crept past the safety of the trees to shine on him and his horse. As the light hit, Draken heard a sound like meat sizzling in a fire. He yanked his hand away from a stray beam of light and forced his horse ride further near the shadows. He saw that his knuckles were burned bright red. Wisps of smoke rising from the scorched skin. But the sun, hungry for presence, rose even higher.

Draken ducked his head, trying to keep his face in the shade, but a ray of bright sunlight struck against his cheek. His smooth white skin blistered instantly, and he bit scream of pain and frustration.

He rushed his animal to the stable and immediately dismounted, rays of light still not yet reaching that part of the area. In haste, he spoke to the Bosmer and told him to take great care of his horse. When asked about the burns, Draken informed him of a mage attack somewhere in the forest. An ambush and that he barely escaped with his life. When asked if he needed assistance, Draken raised his hand and said: “I am fine.”

With that, he entered the Wobbly Goblet, finally away from the eyes and fiery fingers of Magnus.