Bill blinked dejectedly in the sun outside the prison's main entrance. It wasn't the brightness that perplexed him, nor the eviscerated body parts and large pools of blood. What troubled him was the fact that he had no idea where the hell he was. Thinking that there was nothing for it, he began casting around for a relatively clean place to sit. After a couple minutes at this however, it became clear that no single place was unbloodied enough to avoid leaving a stain.

Uncoiling his rope mace, he walked towards the base of a large willow. Climbing atop the largest root, he gave his mace a quick twirl, and sent it flying among the lower branches. After a couple go's, the heavy knot caught in a crease of one the more thicker limbs about 10 feet up. Bill made quick work of the climb, perching himself along the middle of the branch. Reaching into one of his deep pockets, he pulled out a long stemmed, beautifully crafted pipe. Sticking it between his teeth, he packed and lit it with the habitual skill of long, lazy years floating upon the great sea. Quiet and content he sat there. Entwining his toes in the soft, hanging willow leaves and blowing smoke rings as if he had not a care in the world.

Not long had he been sitting there when an Argonian burst through the doors, and, in a great huff, went scurrying off into the jungle. So intent was the lizard on his errand that he passed right under Bill without a lift of the head or even a blink. Bill shrugged, he neither needed nor cared for company at the moment, and was quite happy at being unnoticed. He figured that at least one other person had survived, and would probably emerge outside and spot him before long. (For his tree was located almost directly in front of the door) Besides, he had never really taken to the lizard folk, and generally thought of them as a queer, unfriendly race. For now though, he contented himself by blowing smoke rings. The air of the marsh was quite well suited for them. Having almost no air movement, and not even a wisp of wind, the rings lingered for many minutes. Soon enough, there were just as many rings about Bill then there was willow leaves. What a strange sight this would be from the ground, he thought to himself as he continued to blow the little rings about.

OOC: Ahnassi? Ohohoho, I see what you did there.

IC: An echo woke Xa-raku. He wasn't quite certain what sound had caused the echo until he heard it a second time. It was the sound of someone crying out in pain. Several people, in fact. At first he wondered if perhaps some of the prisoners were being tortured, but he wasn't sure if torture was practiced here or not. Eventually, the noise stopped. Xa-raku couldn't see very far down the hallway from his cell, and wondered what was happening. He heard a heavy metal clanking noise, and some faint voices. Moments later, an orc prisoner with one tusk came by and unlocked his cell, followed by all the others.

It was then that he remembered his hands were shackled behind his back. He stepped out of his cell, asking the others "Where is the key to the shackles?" The orc shrugged and kept moving to the other cells. Xa-raku couldn't see it anywhere, and so had to improvise. He held the iron cuffs as far apart as he could, and then hopped a short distance into the air, tucking his knees in as far as he could and slipping his wrists under his legs before he touched the ground again. Now at least his arms were in front of him. He filed out with the others, still unsure what was happening. He joined the others in horrified awe when he reached the outdoors. The blood, the gore, the wrecked houses.

The trees.

He ignored the warm pool of blood he had just stepped in as he took in the scene around him. The nauseating scent of iron was heavy in the air, and he tried not to breathe too deeply. After regaining his senses he noticed a figure sitting in a tree nearby as he stepped outside. It was an old redguard man, blowing a lot of smoke from his pipe. Xa-raku called out to him, "Wh....what happened here?"

As Gromal gripped the knife, and began carving inwards on the knife, sharpening it. As he was, conversation to spark:

"Look, everything has gone to hell here obviously...and I dont think lingering around in this death-stained prison is going to be doing me any favours. Im going to get moving, and your all welcome to come along if you want to. All I know is, something bad has happened, and if we stay here...who knows what might come for us?

If your not coming, then I wish you the best of luck. My advice would be to stay moving. I know thats what I will be doing..."

Grinning, Gromal almost slipped carving and would have cut his finger, but he regained control. "I will come. if you give me a few moments this thing will be done. I have a friend in Rockspring, if the town hasn't been attacked. He has some supplies and Argonian connections that could get us out of this blasted continent, I say we head there."

Ojenjii found this as good a time as ever to make an entrance. He casually pushed through the door and walked into the kitchen. The odor of Khajiit was intoxicating. So many lizard folk in so small a room. It was unbearable. Still, he hid the face of disgust he'd wanted to make and smiled. "I'm Ojenjii. I uh... I've got ths bounty I brought in and I need to know where to find someone who can pay me for..."

Ojenjii cut himself off, realizing that nearly everyone in the room payed him little attention.

Everyone had taken to leaving the kitchen altogether. "S'ppose I can follow..." he deduced.

As he emerged out into the daylight, he was overcome with nausea. The ground had been seemingly sprayed with crimson and chunks of body. Limbs lie stone cold and hard on the ground around him. The odor itself tore into Ojenjii's senses and left him dazed and sick. Everything seemed glazed in either blood or the murky filth of Argonia. "Ah. The stench is unbearable!" Ojenjii exclaimed, covering his snout as best he could. Everyone around him seemed to respond the same.

Ojenjii tried to make get away from the scene but stopped short at the sight of an old Reduard puffing steadily on a pipe. He had taken up a non-chalant air and watched the group as each scorned at the carnage that surrounded them.

There was so much going on! screams and talking and so many warm bloods! Their scents were everywhere, and she could smell their hot blood pulsing through their veins, suddenly she was so unbearably thirsty. People were coming and going and there was too much happening! Mee-Zaw hissed to herself and left the kitchen hurriedly, makign sure her hood was still covering her face. She needed to find someone to feed on.

As she left the prison she was hit with an incredibly strong smell of pipe smoke and human. She stopped for a second trying to locate the source of the strange scent,
A warm blood in a tree? She asked herself, tilting her head to the side. Maybe I can put him to sleep and repencsh myself. I'm already starting to get cold. She knew the man had seen her, so there was not much point in trying to cnceal herself. She just hoped no ne else would come and disturb her.
Mee-Zaw walked forwards casually, dug her claws into the tree and started to climb.

"I will come. if you give me a few moments this thing will be done. I have a friend in Rockspring, if the town hasn't been attacked. He has some supplies and Argonian connections that could get us out of this blasted continent, I say we head there."

"Excellent" Robert smiled, stopping halfway towards the main kitchen exit and turning back to the orc. For a moment, his lazy eye had lifted with hope; a hope for survival. He panned the room, doing one final check for anything of value before taking a quick glimpse outside the frontal exit. He turned back to Gromal.

"Look, I hate to be under-handed...but everyone is leaving via the front exit to the prison. That means they will be together, and it means they are more likely to be attacked up-front. If we go that way, theres a good chance that we get attacked. But there is no need for such a risk"

He stood for for a while, stroking his chin in deep thought as if the small cogs within his brain were working frantically to come up with a good alternative means of action. Finally, something clicked, and he turned back to the orc almost excitedly.

"I happen to know two exits to this very prison in my time spent here" he said, an urgence in his tone. "The laundry isn't far from here, and contains a maitenance entry and exit for carts dropping off various goods to the prison. We could sneak out that way and follow the old cart road to Rockspring. The other exit is a little more extreme. If we go back towards my room, we can use one of the guard tower battlements to access the roof. Theres a cable-winch up top that leads to from the ground to the roof...it used to be used as a means of delivering supplies to guards if there was a riot or seige. We could slide down it and no one would even see us leaving".

He stood there, rather happy with his ideas. It would appear that his time spent as a janitor had finally served some use.

"Of course, I could just be being paranoid" he admitted. "I just dont like being weighed down with too many people. To have a party of three or four is fine, but anymore then that and I consider it a burden. I think we should barricade that main exit from the kitchen. If whatevers out there catches that outside group off-guard, they may come through here in the hope of finding more prey".

OOC: Okay, I can't wait for Solidor to make a response as Maximus so I'll be coming back to the kitchen I guess.

Long-Tail sat and watched the silent Imperial, making no response, Long-Tail thought something was wrong and that it was best to get back to the fort. He began walking back through the marshes, sloshing about as a light fog began to settle over the water. The flies and bugs had settled down as it began to cool off in the swamps.

The tall reeds stuck up rather high along the path that Long-Tail was taking. He eventually reached the stretch of dry land in the swamp where the fort was. He smelled the distinct scent of pipe-smoke for some odd reason. Long-Tail hurried through the courtyard and back into the fort through the door he had taken earlier.

As he came upon the kitchen, he walked in on a conversation, he picked up a few lines about someone having connections in Rockspring and being able to escape. Then somebody mentioned Long-Tail and how it was a bad idea to go through the front gates, they continued on saying that they worked best as a small group.

"Well I'm back, and I only found one person out there, some Imperial who killed a guard. It was not a pretty sight." said Long-Tail, looking at the group. "If we need to get moving, too Rockspring, we need to get moving now. I have a feeling, something is coming, something VERY bad. Come now we have to hurry!"

Long-Tail had felt a sense of panic he had never felt before, he just had a horrible feeling about the whole situation. Knowing the kitchen well, Long-Tail also kept a few travel cloaks in a closet full of aprons.

"If anybody needs one of these, take one." Long-Tail said as he threw the heavy cloak over his shoulders. He was now looking like a refugee, not a prison cook. Whatever was going on, he knew that a spice mortar, some spikes, a rucksack of dried goods, and a frying pan wouldn't be nearly enough to help.

They all had to get the hell out of dodge.

As Bill puffed away, a small company of people exited through the main entrance. There were three lizards and a cat, all standing there looking at him. Standing up he acknowledged them,

"Well Hello there young ones." He said to the company in general, although his eyes followed what he thought was female lizard moving toward his tree. She, if indeed 'she' was a she, wore a hood that shrouded her face and eyes. As she started to climb the tree, Bill loosed his rope and narrowed his eyes at the back of the shifty looking lizards head. As she gained level with him and stepped onto his branch, he wedged his pipe between his teeth and began twirling his makeshift mace.

"How d'ya do?" he questioned the argonian quietly, watching for any sudden moves.

It waa not the fact that Mee-Zaw needed his blood, she could go a few days without that, it was that unlike other vampires, argonian vampires could not generate their own heat and had to find it from other means. She could have lit a fire, but lighting a fire meant you had to stay next to it, drinking blood meant the heat stayed with her. The old fashioned way of getting heat was to stand in the sun but her vampirism pervented her from doing that so there was really only one choice... except that stupid warm blood would not stop smoking that pipe!

The smell of the smoke was so thick and pungent to her, it seemed to be filling her mind.
"Why are you smoking warm blood?" She asked the man, "the smoke is so heavy, like the fog over a swamp it just hangs in their air and it smells terrible."

Rakasha




He stood in silence listening in half hearted way; he barely processed the words as they went in, his mind was elsewhere but her couldn't figure out where, it was blissfully blank and empty. He reminded himself to savour those moments before snapping himself out of it in an attempt to stay alert.

Most of the people had left in his time spent staring into space, save for an Orc and two Argonians, the chef and janitor. They where stood talking about moving out in a smaller group towards Rockspring to try and avoid any unwanted attention from whoever had attacked the prison.

"That's suicide!" He exclaimed without warning, not even realising he actually had an opinion on the matter until it formed on the spot. "Rockspring is too far north we don't have enough supplies to get there alive it would take days without a horse or boat. Then there's whatever in the name of my grandfathers libido that attacked this place -- we had over a hundred guards and legionnaires holding this place down and they are all dead and gone, you think it was a small group that did this? Man I bet they're spread right over the swamps lookin' for survivors -- I'd rather be with more people and have a fighting chance than with less and be a dead man walkin'. I'm gunna' head to Longmont, maybe from there I can get supplies or transport that will take me to Soulrest where I can get a boat out of this god forsaken province back to Elsewyr."

Without another word or reply he barged past the group with a contemptuous stare, wondering how some people could be so self serving and selfish to think about themselves over the good of others. Then he remembered he was in a prison -- every one in these walls was like that, but he expected better from the staff? Even if it was just a cook and a janitor.


He was nearly sickened by what he saw when he got back outside; it looked more like a butchers shop or a necromancers sick fantasy than prison grounds, and that was a depressing thought. He never thought the prison grounds could look any more worse than they did before, but as usual he was wrong.

"Ok guys I have a suggestion? Some folk have been talkin' about headin' to Rockspring but I don't think that's such a good idea, Longmont is much closer to the south its practically a few hours on foot as opposed to days, even without supplies I think we'd get there much easier, from there we could head to Moonmarch or Soulrest and get a boat out of here and report it to whoever gives a toss about this place." He said loudly to anybody who cared enough about their skin to listen -- watching curiously as the pale Argonian stalked her way up a tree towards a smoking Redguard; he didn't care what they thought of his plan but he knew it was a good one. He was a drug runner by trade and he knew the fastest routes to take through what and where, he had to know if he wanted to make it in his line of work.

"Where's Maximus?" He added almost as an afterthought when he noticed the man who'd got him out of his cell was now missing from the group he'd left him with.

ooc: Time to interact.

ic:

Radik peered down the down the stairs, having found nothing else of particular use Radik decided it was time to depart. Leave the prison and ... well, do something. He always planned escapes and what he would do, but had never been in a situation where the prison was attacked and everyone vanished. Save for blood and the occasional limb, this was something different then a normal prison-raid.
The Argonian backed up from the doorway and made his way to a small stool by the dresser closest to him. He placed the rock and his wooden stake on it's surface.

''Who attacks a prison, and then just ... leaves?'' He asked, rubbing the sides of his head in hopes to stop a small migraine from sneaking into his mind. He sighed loudly in annoyance, and looked down at his inanimate companion.

''We can't go through the front door, what the assailants are still here? What if they are just waiting? We have to leave, but we need to get out of here .. alive... maybe we can...'' He glanced around the room, not exactly knowing what to look for but just something that could lead to his salvation and freedom.

''Ah-Hah!'' He exclaimed, walking towards a small square section of the wall cut in for a window.

''If this leads to the roof, maybe we can get a good look of things....'' Radik mused to himself, grabbing the rock and his makeshift weapon - wasting no time he proceeded to window and peered out, only to see that the green with grass and black with wood of the land that was his home, was now gray with ash, and red with blood. He quickly whipped his head back in, a look of complete confusion and fear imprinted on it.

''What in the depths of Oblivion is going on?'' He whimpered, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Was this an Apocalypse? If so, wouldn't the gods have killed him a long time ago? He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, it was like enormous war drums were being pounded repeatedly and relentlessly right next to him.
Radik took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The migraine seemed to have eased up, but gave hints of it's reemergence. A clean, calm mind was key to mastering an endeavor like this. But it's not like I actually do have a clean conscience ... oh gods...

The reptile dropped the stone in the side pocket of the leather greaves, then bit onto the wooden stake - tasting both wood and the blood that soaked into the material. He climbed through the small window with ease. Thanks to his thin, flexible size Radik could fit through any place an average man could not without fear of getting stuck.
Once out, he tried to dig his claws into the slanted roofing so that we would not slide down and fall off, giving that the prison was a few stories, falling from the roof would ruin someones day - or possibly end it, depending on what and where you land on. Almost immediately, Radik heard indistinct pvssyring. Either the attackers planning a next move, or possible survivors. He spat the makeshift dagger onto his hand thankful to get that taste out of his mouth and slowly waddled his way in a crouch position to the edge of the roof, trying to stick his head out as far as possible without falling. But alas, all he could see were silhouettes and the voices were still too muffled to make out.

He peered out more, oblivious the fact that he had just shifted his weight to the edge of the roof, resulting in the Argonian sliding off the rooftop. Radik's arms futilely flailed around trying to grab roofing as he careened and yelled surprisingly as he crashed into a weak branch of a tree that broke under the sudden weight halfway down the fall. There, his body met the ground with a loud fleshy thud, sending small ash piles everywhere around and on him.
In a matter of seconds he was back on his feet, brushing off ash as if he had merely tripped. Radik scanned the area with his eyes and realized that his only weapon was no where in sight. And that there were four figures not ten meters ahead of him.

One was an Imperial, one that looked familiar and seemed to brandish some sort of makeshift spear made from clothe, two arrows and a leg of a chair or table. By the look of his face, the man looked like a prisoner himself, probably out here the same reason as Radik.
The second, was an Argonian standing near a tree, whom nearly blended in with his dark color variant scales. His clothes depicted that he may have also been a prisoner.
The third, was a Redguard actually in the tree, smoking a pipe as if it were any other day. The man looked a little short in Radik's view, but then again, it may have been because he was in a sitting position. The fourth figure, was rather difficult to make out was yet another Argonian that Radik couldn't not make out due to her position in the tree. The last, and probably not least person was a Khajiit. And immediately, Radik froze more then he could have frozen right then and there. Some of the color drained out of the lizards scales, he had right to fear Khajiit. They were fierce and vicious, and were usually the bullies of the prison yard.

Most of Radik's cell mates were Khajiit, most of them were crazed-murderers and thieves with very brutish attitudes. He remembered when he had lost his pinky and the tip of his index finger to a Khajiit who enjoyed his food with a slice of Imperial, or Argonian meat. Most of them had given Radik the scars and bruises he carries to this day. He had yet to meet a Khajiit that wasn't as barbaric and savage as the ones his memory recalled.

EDIT: Oops, dammit I'm getting old :3 I'm always forgetting someone or something. And yes, I'm positive Rakasha is Khajiit. Grr! I made my post longer then I wanted it to...

OOC: If you're outside Jerod, I believe you forgot to mention Ojenjii. Haha. And Solidor, your character's a Khajiit yes? I can't post anything reasonable until that's cleared up...

Long-Tail was a bit surprised at the outburst Rakasha made about the plan to head to Rockspring. Long-Tail's family was in Rockspring, which was the only real reason he wanted to go there instead of some place nearby. Rockspring wasn't even that far away if you knew what trails to take off the main road. Long-Tail pulled his cloak around his shoulders a bit tighter.

"I'll be right back." He told the others who were in the kitchen. Long-Tail made his way outside, following Rakasha as he told some prisoners outside his plan of escape, which meant heading to Longmont and hopefully to another city to book passage to Elsweyr.

"Rakasha, you must listen to reason. Rockspring is further away, correct, it will take longer to get to. BUT, it is a much larger and well fortified city, and since its further away there is more of a chance that it hasn't been attacked. What makes you think Longmont is safe, its close-by and its a smaller town, maybe IT was destroyed as well."

Long-Tail was shaking at this point, he'd never been so excited and scared in his life, and he was an ex-smuggler who had ran from the Legion for years before becoming the kitchen cook. The thought of his family being in danger scared him the most.

"My family is in Rockspring, that is why I choose it the most. Just listen to reason, for Talos' sake!" Hopefully Rakasha and the others would listen, time was running out, and they all knew it. Decisions had to be made.

OOC: Fang, could you post a reply to mine? Im kinda just sitting here atm waiting for an answer. In the meantime, I suppose, heres a wee post.

IC:

Robert sighed with stress. Even when he was trying to be helpful, it did not seem like many cared much for his plans. If things got any worse, he would outright pack his meagre possessions and leave by himself. He despised waiting for death, and the indecisive group didn't exactly help.

He waited for the small group within the kitchen to make up their minds...walking over to a grated window and leaning on a nearby wall...peering outside in thought. Rockspring or Longmont, he cared not either way. Aslong as he was mobile and relatively discreet, he was happy with his tactics.

A figure caught his eye..slow-moving and missing an arm. The shadowed figure stood far in the distance on some black hill surrounded by marsh, but the argonian could still clearly see. He inched closer to the grated window, his breath bated in intrigue.

The thing was standing under a willow tree, shuffling oddly with a lumbering gait. Although its six or race could not properly be determined due to the vast distance between the marsh-hill and the window...Robert could see it was no beastman. The figure was know kneeling down, tearing at something on the ground.

And then it stood up, and Robert leapt back away from the bars in terror. For in the one-armed figures hand, the argonian could clearly see a decapitated human head. The shadow then proceeded to bite into the skull of the thing in some grotesque feast.

Robert keeled over and dry-heaved into his gloves. By the nine, what had happened to his province?

Julius glanced around the corner momentarily as he considered his next course of action. There were prisoners loose, that much was certain. From his hiding spot near a kitchen door, he had heard most of the conversation going on inside. If it came down to a fight, he was pretty confident in his abilities to hold his own against them. As long as they weren't armed, anyway.

On the other hand... Julius had always enjoyed conversation with the prisoners more than with his fellow guards. He found they often shared ideals far more frequently than he could expect from someone brainwashed by the Legion. It would only make sense that he should side with them and try to escape with his skin rather than try and stop them. As an added bonus, being in the company of criminals would make an excellent excuse if they were ever apprehended by the Legion. He could simply say he was taken hostage. Brilliant plan, Jules! A new personal best. I win either way.

He heard raised voices and then fading footsteps, which brought him out of his thoughts enough to formulate what he was going to say to the prisoners. When he was collected enough to finally move, he rounded the corner with his shoulders set and his head held high, in an act of superiority. Only to realize there were only two people in the room, one of which was the janitor, who seemed to be having some issues with his stomach.

"You okay there Robert?" Julius asked, dropping his demeanor now that he knew there was no one that needed intimidating.

"I'm 'fraid I've spent most of the day in a secluded little place, so I've got no clue what's going on. I'm getting out though, so I suppose I'll just tag along with you lot. Plus, I could get you past checkpoints if the Legion has set them up. If we were attacked, you can bet they have."

Rockspring




It was as if the gods themselves had been corrupted and tainted by evil and now sent a legion of death to cleanse the lands of the innocent and pure of heart. The legion was present but they did not defend them, they attacked as the undead they where. They swung their weapons above their heads and brought them down with a sickening crunch or gut wrenching squelch into the bodies of the innocent civilians.

In the tower of the chapel sat an Altmer no older than seventeen though he was still much taller than any advlt around him. He was a mage and a good one at that, one of the most talented powerful casters ever born his master had told him, but he lacked confidence.

He watched wide eyed as the Black scaled Argonians and dismembered legionnaires rampaged through the city killing maiming and worse of all? feasting. They stopped after each person they slaughtered to bend down and take a bite out of their flesh -- some carried arms or legs like a snack, pausing to rip a strip of flesh from the disembodies limb every few steps. It was a disgusting sight indeed.

People who ran where cut down in seconds; the city had been attacked from all angles without warning, they didn't even hear them coming. It was as if they had just appeared out of nowhere from the trees surrounding the town. The few people who fought did so valiantly -- Argonians swung pitch forks and rakes like they where weapons crafted by the gods, cutting down the undead who marched relentlessly towards them, but for each one they killed ten more took their place. Their numbers seemed infinite.

The Altmers master fought as well; flinging fireballs and orbs of frozen energy and thunder into the fray every second with just the tiniest movements of his hands. He was an artist indeed, slight of hand was his speciality. The results where catastrophic, but not for him. Only for those who where on the receiving end of his spells.

Undead simply froze to the spot like grotesque statues as they where hit by his frost spells. Others exploded into a thousand sinewy chunks as fireballs pierced their chest and exploded from the inside. However, they didn't recoil or fall to their death as he cast a thunder spell. It hit one of the undead and passed through to the rest in a chain effect but they only got faster, smoking from their shoulders and heads but not dead. He tried again -- the blue flashes of lightning illuminated the city like a fire work, but still they walked.

Then, he screamed. He screamed as a horde tore him apart -- he screamed as they feasted on his still beating heart. He screamed not for the pain or the anger at his death; he screamed because he saw his apprentice? a boy no older than seventeen, staring down at him from the tower, eyes as wide as saucers and full of tears. He screamed because the boy didn't look away.

It was strange how thought provoking emotions where for the young Altmer; he didn't just feel them and relinquish his control to them like most people, he anolyzed and studied them as they evolved. First he felt sorrow and dismay as he saw the life fade from his masters eyes beneath the clawing hands of the undead, then it shifted and changed to anger and fear then eventually nothingness, just a suffocating numbness that enveloped his essence without mercy.

Slowly he backed away from the edge of the tower; his eyes never leaving the undead bellow still fighting the living, he moved back until he hit the gigantic bell of the tower which was due to ring in to let the townspeople know it was late afternoon -- not that any of them cared. Its noise reverberated gently through the town and the undead paused and stopped attacking, they just stood and stared into space with blank expressions devoid of life or emotion.

His heart hammered a tattoo into his chest -- he hit it again and the undead seemed to recoil as if burnt. Again, they inched backwards as the sound of the bell grew louder. The survivors paused too, looking around to the bell tower with hope in their eyes, one called up to the young Altmer as he spotted him. Though he couldn't hear what he said but the gesture he used indicated he wanted the Altmer to pull the rope connected to the bell.

So he did. He grasped it with both hands and took his feet off the ground and dropped to the floor with it, then pushed from the floor with all the strength he could and then dropped back down. He kept doing it over and over -- the noise nearly deafened him but he laughed with relief as the undead began moving away, running from the noise back into the depths of the forests and swamps -- heading south away from the town.

He let go and the sound of the bell got weaker and weaker -- the town was silent save for the laughs and cries of the few hopeful survivors.








Blackrose Prsion





Maximus just lay there panting in shock -- he didn't even register as Long-Tail the Argonian cook for the prison came to check what had happened, he just lay there thanking whatever deity had spared him.

Eventually he managed to calm himself and crawl to his feet -- following Long-Tail's tracks back to the prison. The others had started gathering in the court yard now and he could hear conversation on the wind as well as the curious sound of slipping and a fleshy thud as if somebody fell. He rounded the corner to find a group of people stood around a tree with smoke rings flying from between its branches.

He listened as Rakasha made a point about travelling to Longmont to find passage to Soulrest then Long-Tails argument that they should travel to Rockspring instead.

"I agree with Long-Tail, Rockspring may be further away but that just means theres less of a chance that its been attacked. For all we know Longmont was destroyed by those things that attacked the prison on the way here, Rocksprings the logical choice for safety -- if they had been attacked we'd have been warned by any Legionnaires or town guard that escaped." Maximus said more to Rakasha than any one who was now edging away from a very lithe looking Argonian that stared back at the Khajiit with fear in his eyes.

"And if Longmont was attacked on the way here that would mean whatever attacked us is heading north towards Rockspring -- we'd be following the attackers to a blood bath Maximus." Rakasha shot back at him, his tail coiling around his leg uncomfortably as he edged still further away from the Argonian..

"Good point but if we get there and it had been attacked we know for definite what direction these things are headed and we can plan accordingly. Rockspring is the safest bet for now my friend, we should take the chance, Its where I'm going any way. If you value your life you would be wise to follow."





OOC: The young Altmer is my next character, I'll post up a sheet for him if we end up going to rockspring.

You are a lucky warm blood. Mee-Zaw grumbled to herself as the khajiit from the kitchen came out of the entrance, shortly followed by an argonian and a rock falling from the roof. How was she supposed to feed with so many people around?
She snorted as another waft of smoke went up her nose, it was making her head feel fuzzy and she could feel it entering her bloodstream, choking her from the inside so she hastily climbed back down the tree whilst listening to the conversation between the others about whether to head to Rockspring or Longmont. She had to agree with the warm blood named Maximus, his agrument seemed to make the most sense. Unfortunately, Mee-Zaw could feel cold settling on her limbs and she knew it would only be a couple of hours before she would need to find warmth.

"I agree with with you Maximus and Long-Tail, you speak sense. It will get very dark at night, and it would be best for us if we had torches so that we can see the creatures before they see us. They might be afraid of fire too. Are there any torches in the prison?" Mee-Zaw asked a slight shiver coming through in her voice, she hoped they would say yes because a cold vampire argonian would not be pleasent company for them.

"You okay there Robert?"

Robert looked up to see Julius, one of the guards at the prison. In all honesty, the janitor hadn't talked to him a great deal despite the fact he knew most of the other guards quite well. He seemed a little rough around the edges, not exactly brutish...but rather more akin to a prisoner then an actual guard. Still, first impressions always had a habit of being misleading.

"Im alright, thank you" He said, wiping the spittle from his lips with the back of his arm. "But now I definately know that theres something out there and it kills men and mer alike. No time for discussions now. I have seen what we're up against and Im leaving now. Come along if you wish, but Im heading for the roof".

With a nod to everyone within the kitchen, he pulled his great club out from his belt and gripped it firmly in his fist. His heart felt as if it were lead, and his muscles were tight with fear as the frightened argonian left the kitchen and entered the pitch-dark hall from whence he had came from.

Right he thought, his mind racing. "All I need to do is go back where I came from..past my room, up the spiral staircase to one of the towers on the battlements. Then just climb off the roof via the cable leading down behind the prison and hopefully those things will have their attention firmly fixated on the team out front and will be oblivious to my presence..."

He felt a little pang of guilt for essentially deserting his cohorts, but now was a time for action rather then planning. He had welcomed anyone that wanted to tag along also...but he just hoped that he would somehow come across the team heading for Rockspring on hus journey.

"Im alright, thank you," the Janitor said, wiping the spittle from his lips with the back of his arm. "But now I definately know that theres something out there and it kills men and mer alike. No time for discussions now. I have seen what we're up against and Im leaving now. Come along if you wish, but Im heading for the roof".

Julius frowned as the part-healer part-janitor resident of the prison pulled out a club and left the room with a nod to the other figure. He made to follow his acquaintance, but paused to look out the window Robert had been at in hope of seeing the thing he had mentioned.

Unfortunately, by the time Julius had decided to look out, whatever Robert had seen was gone. Julius just rolled his eyes. He was sure whatever had gotten the Argonian worked up he was perfectly capable of killing, even without a weapon. Hand to hand combat was something he was good at, after all. He had to be after surviving all the bar fights he had been in while staying in High Rock. Those Bretons had great parties... Ah, good times. If only the bars here were as good, but they're all dark and dreary, just like this damn swamp. How can anyone stand to live here?

With a sigh, part exasperation, and part regret at abandoning more pleasant memories, Julius turned and followed the Argonian out of the room. His first order of business would be to acquire a weapon of some sort. He doubted anything of any worth was left in the armory if the prisoners were loose, and he also had no plans of returning to the barracks. I'll just have to make due with whatever I come across I suppose.

Radik swallowed nervously, keeping his eyes locked on the Khajiit as he checked to see if any of his bones were broken. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small stone that had been with him from the beginning. It was only here where he took his eyes off of the feline.

''Are you okay?'' The lizard whispered, cupping the rock in both of his hands as if it were some secret he didn't want anyone else to see.
After a small interval of examination, He sighed in relief and shoved the stone back into his pocket. His orange lizard eyes darted between each individual in front of him, taking in a bit of surprise when he noticed that the Khajiit was further away with his tail wrapped around one of his legs.
The sight made Radik feel a bit more relaxed, seeing that the cat-person was more uncomfortable then aggressive towards the Argonian. Although it was better to be safer then sorry.

He moved silently, like a panther stalking a hopeful chance of dinner. Radik slipped past Maximus, sneaking behind him instead of walking between him and the Khajiit, for that brief moment the young reptile felt his entire body tense and his hands curl into fists in a preparation in case the Khajiit attacked him.
Once a good distance away from that group, Radik sighed in relief once more and glanced around.

What was happening? One minute everything is green and normal, next the entire world's been blanketed in blood and ash. It felt like one of Radik's nightmares had bled it's way into reality. Who knew, maybe this was just another nightmare.

OOC: terrible post but Im skint on ideas atm XD And Ambrose, just to clarify...The corridor we're going through is rather dark. Robert used it to get to the kitchen from his room so now hes just retracing his steps.

Unlike his first time through the eerily dark corridor, Robert had a great deal less strain coping with the darkness on his second way through. His eyes had adjusted the best they could, and although he couldn't see into the distance or make out any real detail, he could see infront of him enough to know where to go. Exchanging a quick glance behind him to see if anyone had decided to follow, he was pleased to see that Julius had taken the same initiative and was following behind.

"Good to have you coming along, Julius" he smiled. "Our next step before the roof would be to get you a weapon, my room isn't far ahead, and is en route to the stairs if you would like to avail yourself of a broom or some other utility".

His words were calm and serious, and with sombre thoughts in his head, the argonian continued to creep through the dark corridor. Soon he began to feel something squish beneath his feet. He had felt the same small, mushy objects underneath him on his way through the corridor towards the kitchen; but this time he was more repulsed then before. After seeing that...thing through the window, who knows what the mess on the ground was?

He stopped for a while. Hopefully Julius was closely behind, if not...he would wait for a while to let the man catch up.

Bill was about to answer the hooded Argonian when she abandoned the conversation and slid off the tree. What a rude creature, he thought to himself as he watched her land nimbly on the ground.

"Why smoke!" he mumbled indignantly, " Indeed, why do birds fly? Why do fish swim? What a stupid question." He eyed the lizard with even more dislike as he walked along the branch, knocking his pipe out against the trunk. Once finished, he jumped down and landed among the crowd. The tips of his unkempt white hair brushing the shoulders of those beside him.

Clearing his throat, he spoke out loudly, "Lets not tarry here, the quicker we start the more ground we'll cover. There are lizards and cats among us, can they not see in the dark? Let them lead us when night falls. When light cannot guide let keen eyes do the work, that's what I always say. Anyhow, torches would only work as a beacon, drawing attention to us. Lets not give whoever did this a chance to do it again!" Having said his piece, Bill wedged his hands in the coil of rope across his chest and wished that he had something to eat.

Mee-Zaw could fel a coldness overcoming her, she could feel her teeth pvssyring, it really didn't help that it was a cold night.
"You can all go on ahead." She shivered "I need to find some torches, we argonians are not warm blooded like you, we need the sun to heat us and it's getting dark. I am very cold, so I must find some torches. I could light a fire but that would mean standing still, but torces can move with us."
Although Mee-Zaw could speak in a cyrodilic tongue just fine she found it difficult switching from Hist to Cyrodilic which made her sound very uneducated indeed and sometimes very rude. She really hoped she had just passed for an ordinary Argonian because it was true, argonians were cold blooded and all the argonians here would get cold at night too with no fire to warm their scales, it was just a bigger problem for her because she couldn't use the sun to warm up, she had t drink blood instead.

"I do not mean to sound rude or insistent. But I'm sure if you warm bloods could not keep yourselves warm you would want some torches too." And with that she hurried back inside the prison to look for torches, she would be able to light them herself with a simple fire spell.

"Do you suppose it was a Swamp Leviathan?" Xa-raku commented to no one in particular. There were only a handful of things that would have the capacity to raid a city and then do away with all the corpses. Leviathans never usually strayed far from the water, but Blackrose was perilously close to the open lakes after all. That didn't explain the ashen trees, which demanded his attention far more than the copious amounts of blood.

Xa-raku thought it odd that Mee-Zaw wanted a torch so badly. Black Marsh was known for being particularly hot and humid, being a jungle-like swamp bordered by a desert, after all. Even at night it was not exceptionally chilly. He figured she was simply afraid of the dark but did not want to admit it; little did Xa-raku know how well she really knew the dark.

"I don't need one," He told the others. The options for what to do next were difficult. If it had been a Swamp Leviathan, it would likely not return for some time if ever again, meaning it would be safe to stay and rebuild. However, Xa-raku had already overstayed his welcome, and had every reason to return to Greenglade and do his best to put Luah out of his mind for as long as possible. No doubt the other prisoners would not wish to remain here and be reacquainted with the dank prison once the legion caught up with them. He decided he would follow the others north, and then do his best to continue on home afterward.

But other matters demanded his attention first. He walked over to a nearby house and found one with the sturdiest-looking door that he could see. Xa-raku took one of the links of chain connecting his shackles and wedged one end of the link in the space between the door and the wall. Then he slammed his palm into the side of the chain link, causing it to snap in half and thereby allowing Xa-raku to move his arms freely, albeit with shackles still attached.

OOC: I'm very sorry for this OOC post but I have no idea what's going on. Could somebody PM me where everyone else is and what we're doing. Otherwise I'll just take Long-Tail and make my way up to Rockspring. But I thought this was about group survival. So details would be nice, and once I'm filled in I'll make a very good post. Again sorry for the OOC.