OOC:I wasnt talking to kimas,I was talking to the beggar.The kid reminded silver of himself when he was a child,before he joined the dark brotherhood.Still,nice joke.

OOC: Forrest, if the corpus haven't come yet, then Jamaal is ahead in time. I will wait for you guys to catch up to that tiem before I post again.

OOC: I just edited it so that Durzol was quite a ways away from the city when he was attacked. I'm sorry but I really don't want to have to edit 2 whole paragraphs out of my post. I'll be more careful in the future, sorry Forrest.

OOC: Or we could simply disregard it and you can try again next time. No corprus. No one say there is corprus until Forrest says so first. No corprus.

My character is still chilling, nothing new. He might come into town soon, but not tonight, I don't have the time today. Sorry, I'll have him in Cheydinhal by tommorow

OOC: Sorry for yet another OP, I revised my last post. It sounds much better now.

Your post begins with you 4 miles from cheydinhal, and ends with you in an inn in Cheydinhal.

OOC: I rode in a freaking carriage, its not that long of a ride. I took out the only exciting part which was the corprus fight, and replaced it with me hitching a ride from a Nordic farmer. I got to the gates saying I had news from Morrowind, declined seeing the count, and got a room at an inn. Thats better, and I hope up to Forrest's standards.

Now can we please get this RP going, all this OP is cluttering up. And as far as I can see we're all in some nice starting positions.

OOC: @Salles Valllen, sorry it was the beggar wasn't it . @ Darkom, yeah I want my character to chill out around the town as well, have a few beers etc . But seriously to all of us we need to stop OOCing with ICing, it's against the rules but more importantly wastes an entire page. C'mon guys we know we can send each other PM's, so lets do that. Oh and this won't be a very long post, but we need to get more IC posts. And may I suggest someone PM a moderator to delete these OOC's?

Louis Dilbor, Cheydinhal

Just the thought of Corprus being right outside the city walls would terrorize Louis' nerves, making his blood run cold and chill him to the bone. Well that or the temperature was still descending itself. Either way it was not nice, and eminently distressing. But eventually the guard replied, after he seemed to recall the questions and recover himself from his state of bewilderment.

"That guy? That's just some crazy orc. He went around acting like there was something attacking him. Probably some skooma addict or something. I'd arrest him, but, er....I'd wait for some backup first." It was obvious that the guard did not want to take on that Orc alone, and who could blame the guy? You could mistake that beast for an Ogre or some gigantic creature. However Louis did find it strange that it was only a skooma-addict or something similar.

''Soo that was all it was? No Corprus or whatever? Well thank the Nine for that aye?'' Louis spoke with a false chuckle. ''Well you've got work and I gotta sleep, so I'll catch 'ya later.'' Dilbor wasn't exactly extensively confinced by the guard's words, but it still did a good job of comforting him. Well if we got that colossal Orc with us, we should be fine! Louis tried to assuage himself with positive thoughts. However in a way he did actually believe Cheydinhal was safer with the Orc, he's probably equal to about five or so men and would be an amazing help if anything did attack.

After leaving the guard, Louis knew he would have to get home pronto, his parents were heavy sleepers, in fact an attack Corprus probably wouldn't wake them. But with that said there was no point in risking it. God, how old am I, twelve? Louis thought, chafed that he felt he still had a curfew, as he briskly walked back to the house. On the way home, Dilbor took notice to the Chapel of Arkay towering to his left. The structure and archirtecture were fantastic, truely a beautiful sight. Despite this, Louis rarely ever entered to pay his respects. In fact the last time he went there for a proper service must of been when his teens hit, not remembering the exact age. However, with the current predicament, it wouldn't be a suprise to catch he and probably a few others praying for hope. In appeared that in desperate times, people often relied on the gods to save them. Others leave the Church believeing that the Nine did nothing to stop it and are pathetic. ''Two different sides of the coin aye?'' Louis muttered to himself for no real reason and he regretted it instantly, it hurt his teeth and caused a sharp pain to run through them.

The fast-paced walking was doing Louis well, he had just crossed the bridge and was almost home. Actually it was in plain view. At closer observation, Dilbor could see all the lights were off, meaning that his Dad had gone upstairs. Dammit! How am I meant to get through the house in pitch black! The Breton thought, stomping his foot in frustration. As mentioned earlier, his parents were heavy sleepers, but he wasnt' risking it.

Instead of opening the metal fence to the house entrance, it made always made a loud screech, Louis hopped over the fence with soundless grace. It probably took him about thirty seconds to open and close the door, however it was not in vain and there was next no noise. Thankfully the fireplace wasn't still roaring on. Gerad would often leave it throughout the night, extremely dangerous to say the least. Fortunatly, Louis wouldn't need to bother doing what his Dad should be. Although the next obstacle would be a challenge, and he almost cursed in his mind. The stairs were so creaky that it would be impossible to be silent. Louis got up then on his hands and knees, there was still the obvious piercing sound, causing him to wrench his face each step. Although in the end it wasn't to loud and his parents likely were oblivous to it.

Finally Louis reached his room, and hopefully this time he would fall to sleep with succession. The frighening thought of Corprus being around awoke and alerted his sense a little more, but that little bit of adrenaline had dispersed away, only extreme weariness was left in his body now. Dilbor fell to the bed once again, hoping for a good night sleep.

IC: Durber woke as early as usual, him and his father rising before the sun. The Imperial man lit a torch as he grabbed the sack of produce that had been resting in the corner. After checking his belt once more to be sure his gold-purse was still attached, he addressed his waking father.

"Good morning. We are to leave for town as soon as you are ready, Father."

"Unn...I don't see why we need to get there before even the merchants wake. No one is going to beat you to the sale, son." His father rose from his small yet cozy bed, picking up a shirt from the top of his small dresser and covering his previously bare torso. Durber went to get his Father's cane for him, not wanting the man to stress himself.

"Here you are. Anything else?"

"Nope, better leave now, if you're so insistent on being early."

"Don't blame me; you were the one that got me used to waking so early. Chores started at sun-up, remember?" Durber held the door to the small home open while his father shuffled out.

"Yeah, yeah. And now I'm paying for being so cruel as to give you a home and a profession."

The conversation continued in a nostalgic fashion as the two started the two mile walk to Cheydinhal. Durber knew that it would take them at least an hour to traverse that distance, even if he could do it alone in less than half the time. His father insisted on being present whenever Durber sold any crops, even if he complained the whole way.

OOC: Yeah, open to whatever you want to do Forest. I hope you didn't have plans to attack the city overnight, in which case I suppose Durber's home was on the other side and he will find the town full of corprus zombies.

OOC: the horde attacks in 24 hours. If we're not through that time period in two days, I'll timeskip ahead. And from now on, all OOCs must be accompanied by a reasonable-length IC.

IC: Fanier had been sitting at the bar for some time now, with no sign of Markus. He took a disheartened swig of whiskey; upon lifting his canteen, he realized it was running low. "Excuse me," he asked the barkeep. "How much for a bottle of whiskey?"

"The prices range from fifty drakes to one hundred-seventy."

Fanier checked his pockets; he had five drakes. Damn it. Can't even buy some liquor. "Never mind," he sighed, and got up from his seat. Disheartened further, Fanier weaved his way through the tables and out the door, heading east toward his house. It was hardly a long walk; about twenty minutes and he was on his own doorstep, reaching into his pockets for his key. Upon opening the door, Fanier took a little time to stroke the mane of his bay horse, sheltered underneath a small overhang. "Hey, Perce," he told his horse. "I got something for ya." Fanier procured an apple from his small pack; he had picked it up from the grocer earlier that day. As Perce munched, Fanier went inside, bolting the door.

Fanier's house was modest. There was one room, with a small twin bed, and a rug in the center of the floor. Two chests were set at the foot of the bed. One was open, and held his simple everyday clothes; the other was made of heavy wood, reinforced with steel. It was held shut with a heavy lock, and held Fanier's equipment: a shortbow and a good stock of arrows, some thick leather armor, and his prized elven shortsword, the latter of which he had with him right now. Fanier removed his coat, lazily flinging it over the open chest, and knelt down to open the heavier one beside it. There he stowed away his sword, locked it, and stretched out over the bed.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore a painful headache. The pain had been nonstop for a week, and had robbed Fanier of much sleep. All he could do was close his eyes and lay down.

The yellow, morning light shoved it's way through the clouds, went through Kimas' window, and hit him square in the face. Kimas squinted his eyes opened, blinded from the early rays of dawn. His leg still ached from his previous night's test. He sat up in his bed, and took the covers off his legs. He stood up on the right side of his bed, and clothed himself in his red robe. To make up last night's theft, he would have to swimming. And in the coldest water there is...

He shook his head, to clear the morning nausea, and grabbed an apple and his fishing net and was out the door. Lake Arrius was a good hour away, but with nothing to encumber him, it would be around half of that. Kimas opened his door, and a cool breeze smacked him in the face. A morning welcome, how sweet. Kimas nodded at the guard by the Eastern Gate, and exited. Cold wind flapped at his robe, and without the city walls, was a lot colder then before. He looked around.

Right in front of him were foothills, and beyond them, the Valus Mountains. To the North, the Jeralls, much taller, much more ominous. To the South was a forest, where beyond that the Reed River would be. He started to move North, keeping up a nice run. Cold air blasted at the Argonian's face, causing him to squint. He hit some vegetation, trees, bushes, and the such. Along with rocks and other non-living things. Kimas liked the usual run he made to the lake, it invigorated him, a better substitute for coffee.

After 30 minutes of running, Kimas sat down to rest and eat his apple that he had brought. He sat and observed nature. He liked nature. The trees looming over the lesser plants, the birds nesting themselves among it. Even moss had made it's way onto the rock it was sitting on, svcking up the sun which pierced the leaves of the trees above. The sun was in a higher setting now, visible over the Valus Mountains. After he had finished his apple, he threw it at a tree, and watched it break into hundreds of pieces. He grinned at that, and continued to run.

Not long after, he reached the lake, where wildlife had stopped for a morning drink, and ran away in the presence of the Argonian. He grabbed his fishing net, and sighted a small fish. He dove in at a quick pace, and swooped up the fish in his net. He discarded it in his pack, and continued. The cold water rushed all over his body, soaking his robe, and making it harder to swim. He didn't care, he liked the challenge. He continued this for about an hour, and got a good stock of 6 fish. That would bring him about 30 coins, now with the meat problem and all.

Sure, he's heard the rumours, but nothing his two legs couldn't solve. Running away, that is. It took him a while longer to get back to the city, as he had a larger pack to carry back. When he arrived, the sun was well in the sky, and merchants and the such were out trading, trying to make a living. He got to trading with an old Breton, giving him the fish, whose scales shined in the sun. He was able to get 40 coins because of his fish, and he decided to pocket 10 of that, and put the rest in his money-jar.

Now it was time to bask in the sun, and later practice with his bow and sword. He climbed on top of his house, the ache in his leg now a dull throb. He lay down on top of his house, and took a quick nap, letting the rays of sun soak his scales, while he thought of nothing and rested the world away.

Louis Dilbor, Cheydinhal

Louis' eyes started to open in the late hours of the morning, his body awoken by the sound of stomping around downstairs, or possibly the sweet smell of breakfast being cooked. Even though it must of been at least eleven o'clock, Dilbor still felt enervated and stiff. Late nights would often do that, especially when you're creeping around the town at night whilst the air is stone cold freezing. The Breton let out a resonat and dragged out yawn, as he lumbered over to the mirror. In short, he looked an utter mess. His hair was scruffy; sleep dust covered his eyes; saliava and mucus was stuck in his throat and much and as a whole he looked like a living corpse. Louis decided to tidy himself up before he began his day.

Before he got ready, Louis decided to let some light into the room, so his drowsy eyes could work better. The scintilating light from the Sun blasted into the Breton's pupils, causing him to shield himself from the illuminated rays. "Thanks for the morning welcome Mr.Sun, but next time please don't be so inviting. Unless you want to burn my retinas!'' Louis chuckled to himself, trying to adjust to the vibrance. Despite causing a minor shock to his eyes, Dilbor was pleased that the Sun was out, it always spelt out a good day for him. And hopefully he could get a tan out of it, his Breton skin was hard to penetrate, so turning brown was difficult. Damn you ancestors! Louis thought cheerfully, as he sluggishly ambled over towards the bathroom.

Seeing as the temperature outside appeared to be at blazing heat, Louis decided to get rid of all the facial hair he had. Even if he liked the warm weather, the sultry temperature would cause extreme aggravation if there was hair on his face. Even though he had been shaving for about fifteen or so years, Dilbor would still often cut himself. It really annoyed him having to go out of the house looking like he'd been in a brawl or something, the reason he usually just kept some stubble. Bah! Stupid cheap razors! Louis thought, wrenching his face as he lightly pierced his cheek. However luckily it was the only bit of mess made, the rest was fine. Next was the hair.

Styling his hair was nothing more than a quick tidy up and comb. Louis never gave himself any kind of unique hair look, he had noticed that most of the people who did were vain, stuck up and looked ridiculously rambunctious. Besides, Dilbor thought his hair looked a lot better when played with minimally. He had a simple routine of wet it, neaten and then comb. Working supremely every time. The result was a respectful look that appeared sophisticated but not overly snobby, just the way Louis liked it. But it did upset him emotionally that no women wanted to actually be around him. Do I smell bad or something? The Breton thought, sniffing himself. However he justed laughed it off, there were plently off fish in the sea and he wasn't really ready for a committed relationship anyway.

Due to the fact Louis was too shattered last night to even undress, he didn't need to put on a new set of clothes. They weren't particulary dirty so it would be a waste of time bothering to change. Before making his way to the dinning room for breakfast, Dilbor looked in the mirror and strook a pose into the mirror. ''Oh don't you look handsome today..'' Louis clicked pointing to his cocky face's reflection. Although embarressingly, as he turned, his body slipped on a small puddle of water concealing itself on the tiles. Thankfully he was able to recover his balance without his head crashing to the floor. I hope no-one was there to see that..

After slapping himself a few times to strengthen his senses, Louis strutted down the steps, hoping for a great day ahead. He had done his best to simply forget last night even happened. The angelic smell of his mother's cooking treated his nostrils, causing him to inhale a load of the stuff before stepping into the kitchen.

''Wowza! Something is cooking in here, mum and pop! What's for mornin' munchin'?'' Louis spoke to his parents energeticelly, perching his behind on the breakfast table stool. For some odd reason he was in a super yet hyper mood.

''Well, sonny jim. Today I'm cookin' us up some sweet bacon and-'' Gerad was cut short by Louis, who decide to question what he was saying.

''Whoa whoa whoa, hold on there. You're tellin' me that you are makin' this honey sweet stuff? Dad, I've lived here with you and mum for thirty years now. I know that is not your cooking. What is simmering up right now smells like it came from the heavens, yours on the other hand has the stench of a rotting corpse.'' Louis chuckled, patting his old man on the shoulder, who just shook his head smiling. And with all that said, Leslie, Louis' mum, brought the food over as she laughed at her son's joke.

''Heh, cheers.'' Louis spoke informally, rushing into his food. It had an almost orgismic taste to it. Dilbor decided to savour and take his time with the food instead of scoffing it down.

Durzol woke up with the sun shining brightly through the windows. He pulled off the heavy woolen sheets as the cold air hit him, this made the Orc shiver a bit. Shaking off the morning chills and grogginess, Durzol got up stretched, then he began a ritual prayer to Malacath by holding up his scimitar and bowing his head, speaking in Orismer. He then got up and opened the window, looking down at the streets full of guards, beggars, regular people going about their day.

Durzol then decided to put on his regular attire and leave his armor in the room, then he belted on his scimitar and satchel. He walked out of the room and down the stairs, opening the door to the outside. Walking down the streets, he was thinking about going to the Count to maybe warn him of the impending Corprus. To hell with it, they'll think I'm some insane skooma addict and lock me up, thought Durzol. He continued walking, not much to do in the town.

He came upon a pub, A drink'd do me good, get my mind off things. Durzol sat down catching a few stares from the patrons, "Mead please, a bottle if ya don't mind." he asked. The barkeep took one look at the Orc, hesitantly getting down a bottle from the shelf. "If you start trouble, the guards will come in a second, so take it easy alright?" said the barkeep, clearly he thought Durzol was the violent drunken type of Orc.

"Sir, I won't cause trouble. I have a hell of a tolerance, this here bottle is just gonna calm my nerves." said Durzol with a smile. He took the bottle and began drinking, a quarter of it was gone after one pull from the bottle. He smiled and gave a 'Nice mead' gesture to the barkeep, who still had a nervous look about him. Durzol sat and continued drinking, eventually picking up a conversation with a Khajiit.

OOC: I've been approved, just posting it up.


OOC: I'm just going to go ahead and ignore any post involving corpus.

IC: Kiel walked into the a dimly lit bar. Ignoring the people in there he walked up to a bartender. "Get me a bottle of whiskey." Kiel said without making eye contact to the bartender.

"That'll be 50 septims." The bartender said in a nasty tone. Kiel reluctantly reached into his little bag of coins and removed fifty septims, he proceeded to hand the coins over to the bartender, filling his fist. The bartender quickly counted the coins and handed Kiel a small bottle of whiskey.

Kiel held up the bottle with discontempt, "I could get this piss water in Bravil for fifteen drakes!" Kiel glared at bartender.

"No refunds, if you don't like it than you can take your ass back to that filth hole called a city!" This bartender was getting angry.

"I ought to reach over this bar and tear your throat out." Kiel was also getting angry and beginning to yell, and he was prepared to take this stranger down.

The bartender showed Kiel a concealed sword. "Why don't you just walk out that door." The bartender gestured twoards the door with his head. Kiel stood up, chugged the bottle of cheap whiskey, and through the empty bottle to the floor, leaving broken glass all over it. Kiel stormed out of the bar slamming the door on his way out. He'd have to find some place else to forget his troubles.

OOC: Are the corpus going to start coming? Or, are we going to sit in taverns...

"Alright then. You can start tomorrow at seven."

"Thank you, sir," said Fanier. "I'll be there." Fanier left the building, exiting into the waning day. In just a few minutes, the sun would slip past its threshold, and plunge the world into night. The sunset looked particularly beautiful from Fanier's position. But nonetheless, Fanier had a feeling, a slight feeling in his gut (or maybe his chest, he couldn't tell), that this night would be quite less than beautiful. Fanier had every reason to be feeling happy: he had just gotten a job at an inn near his house, at a steady rate of eighteen drakes a day.

Despite the day's happy events, something felt, wrong. But feelings were just that: feelings. They often had little to do with the happenings of the world. So Fanier walked on, far after the sun had fallen beneath the horizon. And then he heard a sound.

It was quiet, but feral sound; just a tiny scurry across the ground behind him. Fanier turned immediately, his hand grasping the sword hidden within his coat. There was nothing behind him. The city really ought to do something about those sewer rats. He walked on, and then he heard something worse, from a dark alley to his left, much worse than a little scurry behind him.

Fanier heard a scream coming from the alley. He ran toward the source of the sound, hoping to help anyone who might be in such trouble to scream about it. At first he found nothing, but then, at the end of the alley, he saw a cloaked figure, facing away toward a wall.

"Hello" Fanier asked, slowly walking toward the figure. "Was that you? The scream?" By now he could hear a faint whimpering coming from the figure, and Fanier started to believe that the person was an old lady; it looked frail, and had a horribly hunched back. "Excuse me, Miss," Fanier said. "But I heard a scream and just assumed someone was in trouble." The whimpering stopped, and Fanier relaxed a bit. Then Fanier reached out to touch the lady's shoulder. "Miss-"

Fanier was cut short, as the figure spun around and let out a terrifying shriek, launching itself onto Fanier as the sound echoed through the alley. The two fell to the ground, as the creature clawed at Fanier's face. With a nearly inhuman effort, the elf managed to throw the beast off of him. Fanier immediately drew his sword, plunging the blade into the beast's throat and severing its spinal cord. It fell limp and toppled to the ground.

The elf knelt down to get a closer look at the creature. Its face was horribly disfigured, and pieces of flesh were stripped away from the bone. Corprus, he thought. But how-? Fanier heard the scurrying sound once more. And then a feral growl. Looking around, he saw more figures crowding around him.

And he ran.

A peircing scream rang through the thick night, awaking Ral-Kimas from his rooftop slumber. As his eyes adjusted to the night, he heard some struggling from 2 houses over. Kimas descended from his house, and went to go check it out. Just then, a elf was knocked into the street, a cloaked figure on top of him. Kimas watched closley as the Elf regained his balance and stabbed the figure in the neck. The Elf got up, looked around, and ran. Why is he running? Kimas thought as he turned around. Four or five Corpus Creatures blocked the path back to his house. Kimas looked around, and started climbing onto the nearest rooftop. He got onto it, and started hopping building's, until he was on his own roof. He was able to get into his house, and shut the door behind him.

He grabbed his leather armour, his sword and bow, and grabbed all the food in the cupboard (two apples, and three venison slabs) and grabbed all the money from his money jar (98 Septims). He quickly exited his house, and noticed now a total of ten Corpus Creatures...surrounding him. Kimas took out his bow, and drew the string back. He closed his left eye, and let the string go. The arrow cut through the sky, and burrowed itself into the eye of a Corpus monster. The thing kept moving, and Kimas grabbed his sword. He started to run South, and sliced through a Corpus' right hamstring, sending it falling to the ground. The way was clear, for now...

Kimas kept running, then slipped. The sword still in his hand, he dropped it. As he fell, the blade of his sword went through his right thigh, the blade sticking out the back, the hilt in the front.

"AHHH!" Kimas screamed in agony. Blood rushed from the wound, and Kimas was growing faint. He took out his bow, and aimed at the many Corpus monsters coming from the north. His aim was blurry, and he couldn't line up a good shot. He managed to crawl to the side of a building, and sit up against it. With his remaining energy, he cried "HELP", at the top of his lungs.

His vision faded to black, and he fell to the ground.

Durber had made it to the city on time, waited a few hours as his father complained, and then sold most all his goods. He also bought a few needed supplies: salt, a new shovel, and a new pair of shoes for his father. He had finished all his business as the church bell gonged the hour. 'Eight past noon. Where did the time go?'

Father was waiting on a bench near the small lake in town, watching a few ducks fight over half a loaf of moldy bread as the sun set past the walls. Durber shifted his pack on his shoulders, then walked up to the man and sat down beside him, laying the shovel on the ground.

"Well, have you got everything?"

"Yes, Father. Everything we had listed and more. We should be fine for another month."

"Hmph, good. Even the shoes?"

"Yes, here you are." Durber fished the soft shoes out of the pack, handing them to the elderly man beside him.

"Good, these were starting to wear down." An understatement. His Father wouldn't complain about it, but Durber knew his shoes were more hole than fabric. Yet he refused to let Durber give him his shoes, he insisted that he need them more. A tear fell from Durber's cheek as his father replaced his old shoes with the new.

"Oh come on, it's no wonder girls don't like you, you crybaby. How are they to think that you're tough and capable if you're off crying all the time?"

"Yes, Father. You're right." Durber straightened up, wiping his face with his hand.

"Honestly, sometimes it feels like you're eleven again, tattling on your sisters for pushing you in the mud."

"And you would always tell me off instead of them." Durber's father always knew how to make him smile when he needed it most.

A moment passed. Neither of the men said anything, both sitting there, thinking about the past. They might have sat there for an hour had Durber's father not stood on his cane.

"Well, we ought to go if we want to get back before it gets too dark."

"Alright, let's go." Durber too stood, helping his father and then picking up the shovel once more.

The two walked down the street, passing large town-houses as they went. The sun set quickly, the day turned to night so suddenly it made Durber blink.

"Well, so much for getting home before dark." Durber said.

"We can't well afford an inn, so that can only mean that you need to hurry."

"I know, I know."

Durber's father was about to speak when a scream broke the evening calm. The two men both looked in the direction of the sound, it seemed to come from the street around the corner.

"Stay here!" Durber said seriously, dropping the pack as he started to run towards the sound.

"Be careful!" His father yelled after him as Durber ran, he had forgotten to drop the shovel off with the rest of his belongings.

Durber passed two corners, sprinting down the road, just in time to see a Bosmer man run out of an alley. After a moment, Durber also saw several humanoid things following him. Durber did not know what they were, but judging from the elf's reaction, they could not be a good thing.

Durber stopped when he saw an Argonian leave one of the houses along the street, slamming the door behind him, hands full of weapons and armor. When the Argonian saw the evil beasts that chased off the Bosmer, he dropped everything but a bow. Durber watched, dumbfounded as the Argonian fired an arrow off into the crowd of beasts. The arrow lodged itself firmly into one of the thing's head, but it did not seem to notice, continuing to creep ever closer to the Argonian.

The lizard man put the bow on his back, then drew a sword from his belt, and started running towards Durber. He cut down one of the beasts in his way, and then went straight through the gap it left. Durber watched as the Argonian tripped, his leg impaling itself on his sword. The Argonian screamed as he fell, facing away from Durber, towards the beasts. He pulled the bow from his back, trying to draw an arrow, and then dropped both bow and arrow as he continued to bleed on the cobblestone street.

Durber yelled out to the Argonian, and started to run towards him, but he gave no sign of hearing him as he crawled over to one of the houses. He stopped moving for a moment, and then the Argonian gave a cry "Help!" Durber made no reply, forcing his legs to go faster as the Argonian toppled to the ground.

The Imperial man dropped the shovel he had been holding and knelt beside the Argonian. The beasts were slowly ambling along towards Durber; horrible rotting, diseased creatures. Durber wasted no time picking the Argonian up and running back the way he had come. As he turned the corner once more, he cried out for help "Someone! Anyone, I need help! Horrible beasts! Attacking us! Help!"

As he ran, Durber heard his father answer him "Durber?! What is going on?!"

"Father! Get to the castle, quickly!" Durber turned another corner and saw his father, still standing where he had left him a short while ago.

"What?! Who is that Argonian?! What is happening, son?!"

"Run Father, come with me!"

Durber wasted no further time talking, running to his father and then motioning him to come with him. The old man understood and gave no further reply, dropping his cane and following behind Durber as fast as he was able. He knew there was something happening, something big enough that there was no time to complain about his body.

Unfortunately, despite his iron will, Durber's father could not keep up with his younger son, and had to slow down. Durber called over his shoulder, slowing only slightly "Father, hurry! I don't know how fast they can go!"

"Who?! Who are we running from?!"

"Horrible creatures attacked this man and started after me! We have to get to the castle!"

His father nodded, gritting his teeth as he put all his energy into his legs, willing himself onwards. After an agonizingly slow sprint through the city, Durber finally made it to the gates of the castle.

"Guards! Quickly, there are beasts attacking the city!"


OOC: Wow, sorry about the length. Tried to do it without skipping much. Thanks for finally kicking things off Oh, and Elite Birthday, I hope you don't mind I saved your character.

W00tz and Faldom, my character is currently running around the castle grounds with an Argonian in his arms screaming about Corprus. I think Forrest's character just ran away somewhere. And the corprus beasts have been spotted in town and turned violent. If you can't work off some of that...


EDIT: I've asked a moderator to please clean up some OOCs that were simply bumps. The last few should be left alone, though.

Thanks. I belive we were saying that people need to post soon. Faldom and W00tz, are you up then?

The cleaning squad have done their bit.

OOC: Thank you, Rohugh. Let's keep this alive.

IC: Fanier had made his way onto one of the city's major streets, and all around he saw corprus. The corprus were climbing on rooftops, bursting into buildings, and running down every living thing. The Watch was fighting back, but to little avail. Their mission no longer was to protect the populace; their mission was just like everyone else's: to stay alive. To his right, Fanier spotted a man who was just tackled by a lame corprus. He drew his sword out of his coat.

He swung the shortsword at the beast's head, severing the flesh at its neck. It made a sickening sound, like stepping on a rotten apple. The Imperial stuck between the beast and the ground was still alive. Fanier kicked the limp corpse off of the still screaming man. "Get UP!" he yelled at the Imperial, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt. "Tell everyone you can to get into the Chapel!" The man nodded and ran off, screaming for everyone to get in the Chapel. Fanier ran toward the steeple he could see over all the other buildings. It was just a few blocks away.

As Fanier ran, he noticed that the corprus had not yet penetrated this far into the city. They were rather slow, after all. All around were people running, screaming, mothers looking frantically for their children, men trying to unlock the door to their house. Fanier stopped by his nearby house. "Perce!" he said to his horse, relieved. "You're alright." Fanier untied Perce from his small stable. "Hold on," he said, as he ran into his house, unlocked his heavy chest, and pulled out a few pieces of equipment: two leather gauntlets, a wooden shortbow, and a quiver of thirty-or-so arrows. Fanier ran outside and jumped on his horse, stuffing the equipment into his saddlebags. The corprus were closer now, just a block behind him. He kicked his bay horse, and was off toward the chapel.

A dozen feet pounded against the cobblestone of the alleyway, some faster than others, but all just as ragged. At the head of the group was Faric, scared to death and with his mind reeling with confusion.
Most were far slower than him, but one was keeping pace with him easily. Screams and yells could be heard as the rest of the city heard of what was happening, some were simply screams of fear, others were of pain, people being torn apart by the ragged beasts. The end of the alley was near, and he ran with all he could to reach it. Once he was in the street hopefully there would be someone to help get these things away from him.
A man was running through the streets yelling for everyone to get to the chapel, Faric started off after him, but something had snagged his foot. He was sent flying to the ground, slamming his face off the stone.
Whatever had caught his foot, he could now feel it grasping at his leg, pulling him backwards. The second he turned his head the youths breathing became heavier and his heart nearly beat out of his chest. The fastest of the beasts had caught up to him. Faric kicked at the things face, thrashing wildly, seemingly doing nothing to deterr it. Finally a strong stomp loosened it's grasp.

Faric desperately crawled away, getting to his feet as quick as he could. He turned, running for the Chapel.

[OOC: I feel that was quite a shabby post, but i just need to get back into everything. ]

OOC: I'm going to say that my post happens before the full scale attack starts. I will end with it, though.

"Don't tell me to calm down! I'm telling you, this Argonian was attacked by malformed beasts! Now get out there and help people!"

Durber was standing right in the face of a guard, his father and the Argonian had been taken to one of the towers.

"Sir, I know that there are beasts in the city. Trust me, we're handling it. Now, if you could please follow me inside." He gestured towards the castle.

"Don't patronize me! I want to see you organize some of these men and get out there before it's too late!"

"Sir, if you don't follow me, we'll have to escort you to the dungeon!"

'They don't believe me...' Durber paled. He was the only one, who knew, and he was warning the guard, but they didn't believe him.

"Fine, I'll do something about it myself!" Durber grabbed the guard's sword by the hilt and pulled it from its scabbard.

The guard's look of annoyance turned to one of rage "That's it!" He was about to strike Durber, but the Imperial quickly ran away. The guard, in his heavy armor, couldn't catch up to the much lighter Durber. He raced along the streets, checking every alleyway for the beasts.

He kept running, back to where he had first encountered the creatures. He saw the large outline of the church tower in the dying sunlight, giving a quick prayer. Then, he saw them. A crowd of four misshapen, malformed creatures, ambling along. He didn't know how they were to hurt him, they seemed too slow, but he felt they were...wrong.

He gulped, holding his stolen sword at his side "Get back here!" The guard had followed him.

'Now he will see.' The guard turned the corner, still shouting. The beasts seemed not to notice Durber. Suddenly, more poured out of the nearby houses and allies. There were dozens of them, and all of them were moving towards him. He froze with fear.

"Now I have y-" The guard stopped stock still "What in the name of Talos..."

"I told you..." They were both staring at the beasts. Durber's hand dropped the blade; it made a grating metallic noise on the stone. The sound drove them both into action, running the other direction, shouting nonsense.

More beasts appeared, pouring into the streets around them. The two Imperials passed another house, and the castle finally came into view. Suddenly, he saw the hideous face of one of the beasts. Durber was once more frozen by the sight, but the guard leapt into action, slamming his armored shoulder into the creature.

"Go! Warn the others!" Durber never saw what happened to the man, he had already begun running back to the castle, still shouting to alert the citizens preparing for bed.

"Run, run for your lives!" The beasts poured out onto the streets. There seemed to be no end to them. Durber also saw many doors open, citizens screaming at what they saw.

Durber did not have to go all the way to the castle; guards had heard the commotion and were already running through the streets, trying to fight off the beasts.

"Get to the chapel!"

Durzol had passed out on the bar floor. When he woke up, the same Khajiit he was speaking with was shaking him, screaming about monsters in the streets.

"Damn, I should have warned the count!" shouted Durzol, getting up from the floor. "Alright, follow me if you wish to live." The Orc told the frightened Khajiit. Durzol drew his scimitar, and rushed out the door, already seeing the fleeing citizens, making their way to the chapel it seemed. And then, the Corprus. Vile monsters shambling and even running after their victims, who were inevitably going to be devoured or infected.

Durzol's gear was at the Inn where he had left it, "Alright, run to the Chapel as fast as yer legs can carry you, GO!" The Orc commanded, and immediately the Khajiit bolted towards the group who were heading for the Chapel.

Durzol then set off through the alleyways, trying to be as stealthy as possible, he was too unprotected to fight the Corprus now. The town was in chaos, already a blaze could be seen in a house, probably people trying to defend themselves with fire.

Durzol finally got to the Inn, he climbed up the wall made easy by a low tree and thick vines, and broke through a window. Two men and two women were hiding in the room, "You may want to get to the Chapel, apparently its safest. But don't go just yet, follow me." Durzol marched down the hall and found his room.

Quickly donning every piece of his grand armor, and equipping each weapon and strapping his bow and arrows to his back. He took his scimitar in his right hand, and his axe in the left. Coming back to the room where the people were hiding, Durzol made a gesture for them to follow.

The small group walked down stairs, Durzol in the lead, checking for any Corprus. Soon, he spotted three outside. "When I charge, you run, understand?" And the people nodded.

Durzol went charging outside with a thunderous roar, the four people making a break for the alleyways leading to the Chapel. But Durzol was surrounded. He whipped around, slicing the head off a monster and decapitating another with his axe, then plunging his scimitar into the head of another. Bringing the axe around just as a monster bit into his gauntlet.

Durzol laughed and bashed its skull in with the flat of his axe. Remembering the people he was to escort, Durzol set off down the alley. He found them, once again hiding, "Alright, follow me, keep close." And silently the group kept going, Corprus were seen, swarming the city, and how they'd managed to come about so fast was mind-blowing to Durzol.

Soon, they reached the Chapel, citizens and guards alike were piling in. "Come, quickly." said Durzol, the small group ran across the courtyard to the chapel. "Get inside quickly!" ordered Durzol, and the small group thanked him and rushed into the packed Chapel.

Walking over to a guard, Durzol spoke, "Who is in charge here?"

OOC: Sorry, my computer was experiencing some technical difficulties.

Kiel heard could hear the panick overtake the city. He thought some sort of riot was going on. Kiel was completely oblivious to what was going on in the world, as he was resting in his empty alleyway. Suddenly Kiel was greated by growls and hisses. Three awkward deformed figures began fastly walking twoards Kiel. Kiel stood up ready for whatever the hell was about to happen.

"Hey! You three, what's going on in the city?" Kiel got no answer. "Why doyn't you answer me?" Still Kiel had no answer. The three deformed figures began to move faster, in a more agressive way. Kiel readied his bow for fire in the blink of an eye. "I will use force if you don't stop, and answer." The figures then leaned forward and sprinted at Kiel.

Kiel responded with a single bow shot, pentrating the skull of the man in the middle, taking him down instantly. Kiel shot off another arrow, but this one was rushed and only hit the torso of the one on the left, which suprisingly seemed to have little damage on the man, they must be armored. Kiel put away his bow and drew his cutlass and dagger. He looked for his opponents weapon, but to his surprise there was none. That's odd, picking a fight with no weapons. The one man that had not been hit with Kiel's arrow came close enough to Kiel to try attack. It swung a heavy arm that Kiel decided would be no match for his cutlass. Kiel greeted the hand with his blade and to Kiel's surprise, the hand won. Kiel did not expect such strength, it was superhuman.

The blow knocked Kiel's blade from his hand, leaving Kiel to fight with a dagger. The deformed man swung his arm again, Kiel quickly dodged the blow and stabbed at the Man a couple times, both landed but the Man remained standing. Kiel backed off as now both of the closed in on Kiel. Then, Kiel lunged at the one he had already stabbed, while back kicking the one he shot with an arrow in the face. Kiel was succesful, knocking back the one behind him, and stabbing the other in the chest, preparing it for a final blow.

Kiel took his dagger and stabbed it in the temple, the deformed being fell over dead, unfortunately taking Kiels' dagger with him. At that moment, other other pounced on Kiel like an animal. Pinning him to the ground. Kiel struggled to get out but the Man was too strong. It began clawing at Kiel tearing him apart. With one large push Kiel was able to get the Man to stop for a short bit, Kiel quickly pulled the arrow from earlier out of the Man's deformed chest, and shove it into his eye, that was almost closed because of the mutations.

The Man howled like a beast and fell backwards, dead. Kiel looked at the body, he recognized what he saw. Once, when Kiel travelled to Vvardenfell, Kiel had seen this ugly disease before, and he only two things of it, it had been Morrowinds problem for a while, and there was no cure, but a Mer named Divayth Fyr had been working on it. It disturbed Kiel that the Corpus Disease had reached Cyrodiil.

Kiel gathered his weapons and walked out the alleyway. He emerged into the streets, seeing the emptied City.