ALIVE INSIDE AND SAFE, COME TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE AND CALL FOR ME. MY NAME IS DURUS. I AM ALIVE.

He read it over to himself from the outside of the house, happy with his handiwork. He had sealed the hole that was once his doorway through the night and the message he had carved into the wood was plainly visible. Now the back exit was his only way in and out of the house.

More a fortress than a house now. He thought to himself with a small smirk. Through the night he had boarded up all the holes that the bear had made, and also cleaned up the mess. He didn't manage to sleep, he was too nervous, but at least he knew one thing now. The creatures were afraid of sunlight. The one he met had been hiding in the house, and the rest came out of other buildings too, for whatever reason, these 'zombies' were scared by the sun. Which was better for him, no doubt.

Now, there was just the problem of moving the now definitely dead undead bear. It was stinking up the place, even more so than the other creatures were. He looked to the buildings around him, all of them with windows shut and in darkness. They were probably in there now, hiding from the sunlight.

That thought unnerved him slightly.

Frowning, he began to think of ways to try and move the gigantic animal that laid before him, whose head was charmingly crushed on the floor. He actually realised that moving it might be physically beyond his capabilities. "Damn." He muttered under his breath, looking up towards the newly risen sun.

In a hopeless attempt to try and move the beast, he slammed into it with his shoulder. It budged slightly, but not enough to warrant continuing. "Stupid bear." He said childishly, kicking it in the back. Looking up to the sky once more, he said, "Why me? Gods. Why?" Looks like he had to endure the smell. He left the bear where it was, albeit removing the arrow from it's head before leaving, and went back inside to his house. The smell wasn't as bad in here, but it still lingered. His bag lay on the table near the former entrance, and he smiled. Nearly forgot about that.

He opened it and emptied the contents out on the table. There was enough food here to last a few days, considering he ate slowly. He didn't want to risk going back in one of the houses, not yet, not for a while. In fact, his only chance and choice was to look for another place, somewhere where people could be surviving, like him. But he would leave that for tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Truth was, it was still dangerous out there, with or without these creatures outside. He had to be prepared for such a journey.

Just as he was about to turn, he noticed something else amongst the contents of the bag. A small, blood stained book. He didn't remember picking it up, it must have dropped in when he was running. Out of sheer curiosity he picked it up and examined the cover, it was blank, apart from the blood, so he opened it. It was a journal of one of the people who lived in the house next door to his, he frowned, and turned to the last few pages. They started a couple of nights before everyone died, and the last date detailed what happened prior to their own deaths. He began to read the disturbing contents.

Streets of Cheydinhal.

As Primo spoke to the survivor, Hirrus returned to the Gaurds.
" Now, these creatures don't like the sun right? "
The gaurds nodded in unison.
" The sun is hot, and produces light. Fire, is hot, and produces light. So i figure, we gather some wood, and light a massive fire in front of the gates, we're safe. "

Sending all the gaurds off for wood but one, him and the remaining gaurd began to gather up bodies.
When the gaurd asked why they were gathering up the bodies, Hirrus shrugged and said, " They're gonna stink up the place anyhow. Maybe spread some diseases, better to burn them. "

OOC: It says methanol (wood alcohol) will burn. So I'm gonna say that it's really strong or that people in Tamriel drink antifreeze.

IC: Dro'Raska didn't want to spend any more time in the horrible place. The cloying stench hung low and heavy in the tavern filling his nostrils with the sickly sweet scent. It would soon turn to a disgusting rotten smell, far worse than what it was now. Dro'Raska popped open one of the bottles and sniffed. The overpowering smell of alcohol burned his throat and nose. This is some strong stuff, like it was homemade. It will definitely burn. Dro'Raska thought. Exhaling quickly, the sweet smell returned. Holding the bottles and rags in his hands, he kept steady and sat on the counter. Swiveling, he picked up his legs and dropped them down on the other side once he had turned around. Bounding over the corpses and out of the bar, Dro'Raska took several deep breaths to cleanse his mouth and nostrils while keeping hold of the bottles.

Turning about, Dro'Raska found that there weren't any people around the streets. Shrugging off the odd sense of loneliness, Dro'Raska took his supplies and found a high roof, for the zombies, but that was easily accessible to himself. With the bottles in hand, he ran up the wall and pushed off it, landing on the mostly flat roof. Dro'Raska placed his rags and bottles towards the center of the roof. He laid out his weapons, a silver longbow, 14 barbed silver arrows, and 17 throwing knives. Placing them next to his in the works bombs, he felt a spark of hope.

He took off the cap of the bottle of alcohol and stuff a rag deep into the neck of the bottle. A good bit of it was still sticking out the top. Good, just how I wanted it. Dro'Raska thought pleased with himself. He continued doing so with the other five bottles, making himself five explosives to protect himself with. Now how am I going to light it? Dro'Raska thought, his hope drained now that he had reached a kink in his plans.

OOC: molotovs? How inventive. Good luck on the roof.

IC: "I'm not sure how I feel about Calendras, but I'll make an exception considering our dire circumstances. Oh, and Fanier has a horse." Amiel dissaproved of such use of the recently dead, instead believing they should have their bodies respeted.

"Come on Fanier, lets go see if we can get that money of yours."

"Alright"

Amiel and Fanier walked out of the kitchen, making their way to the great hall and finally into the castle courtyard. There was a group of people surrounding some legion soldiers, but Amiel and Fanier currently had no interest in attempting to recruit more people for the journey west. As they walked down the streets, they found that the walls of the houses were soaked in blood, and that bodies littered the streets. As they approached the fighters guild they found its door had been destroyed. Amiel's heart sunk, as his comrades in the guild were most likely dead. When they entered the building itself, they found the bodies of guildsman and beast alike littered the floor. Two people were slumped agianst the wall, but at a cursory glance did not appear to have any major wounds.

"Fanier...go round up as many drakes as you can. The same goes for weapons." Fanier complied, and started the search for weapons that were in good condition. Amiel walked over to the two figures, and one looked up.

"Amiel? Amiel! Its good to see you!" The figure, a nord male, quickly got up and gave Amiel a bear hug.

"Uflgar, I'm glad your alive, what happened?" Amiel asked, overjoyed at the presence of survivors.

"Well, me and Waylas here were enjoying a beer when these beasts broke through the front doors." Ulfgar's tone changed, and he now sounded defeated "Then...those creatures, they slaughtered everyone. Me and Waylas were able to barricade part of the room, and the sun came up right when they tore our barricades down."

Waylas, a redguard, then stood up, and said "Amiel, what are we going to do? You're the ranking member among the cheydinhal survivors, so its your call."

"Wait, more people survived?" Amiel was hopeful that more of the guild survived.

"Well maybe, I mean, theres like 3 people unaccounted for."

Amiel then turned to the original question, and replied "We're going to the Imperial city for supplies. Waylas, secure a wagon and some horses, and load it with supplies. Ulfgar, there's a legion soldier in the castle courtyard, try to get him to agree to go with us."

Fey was extremely nervous.
Even though those creatures were nocturnal, he was still afraid.

He went around picking off potentially useful bits of plants and rummaging through barrels.
Was that a noise i heard? Naahh, couldn't be.
Fey continued his tedious searching.
Suddenly he heard it again, this time heading towards it.
It's coming from that house.. MAYBE ITS A SURVIVOR!!

Fey rushed into the house, looking around quickly.
The noise came from the closet, Fey walked over to it slowly.
Drawing his sword, he pulled it open in one swift movement.
Sweat poured from his body as he saw what the noises had been coming from..
" AHHHHH, ITS ONE OF THEM! "

The corprus beast leapt out at him, grunting as it did so.
Fey hesitated for a moment, leaping back.
I will not let my fear consume me..

Fey raised his sword, swinging it at the creature, slicing off its arm.
He swung again, this time missing the creature altogether.
Fey was beginning to get tired of this, He stepped back, swinging as hard as he could towards the creatures head.

The blade cut through the creatures neck like butter.
Blood spurted from its neck, spraying across his face and clothes, head rolling to the floor.

As the body thumped to the floor, Fey, shaken and frightened, smiled.

Johann shrugged. "Sorry, I am not a smith. I just sell the stuff he makes. Sorry, but if you find him, tell him to fix that gate for you." Johann yawned, and added, "I can help barricade the walls, or fight. That's something I know I can do." Johann then walked towards the castle, as he was tired of standing around all day.

OOC: Sorry I was gone so long, I'm pretty busy this weekend.

IC: Fanier began his search for weapons. He stumbled across a nice-looking fine-steel bow, and scavenged thirty-two arrows from the wreckage. Bodies, limbs, and blood covered the floor. The entrails of several men were strewn about. Not bothered by any of this, Fanier pulled out his canteen and took a big gulp of scotch.

Upstairs, Fanier checked the guildmaster's office, sure that a few useful things could be found. He came across a few more stray arrows, and two pairs of thick leather gauntlets from a few bodies. Then he found a large reinforced chest, labeled, "Property of the Guildmaster."

Fanier carefully opened the heavy chest. Jackpot, he thought, as he picked up a silver longsword and about two-hundred and fifty drakes. Fanier made his way back to Amiel, his pockets jingling with the mass of gold coins held within them.

"Hey," Fanier said to Amiel. "Look what I found."

Name:Xerxes iron-Roar
Race:kahjiit
Gender:Male
Apparent Age:30
Actual Age: 30

Skills:blunt,blade,heaby armor,hand-to-hand,athletics,acrobatics,speech craft
Armor/apparel:heavy bonemold armor with some cloth bits
Unique apparel:silver bells that hang from his double headed glaive,ivory braids that hang from the few dreds in the front of his mane

Weapons: mythril Glaive
Equipment:smoked deer meat. medium sized bag of gold (200)

Physical Appearance: http://www.mtgstaples.com/mediac/450_0/media/DIR_11601/b7.jpg

Unique Appearance:a dark scar over his left eye

Mental Description:smart,quick-witted, flirty,h could rage if something particularly gets to him. he doesnt talk much,but waht he says is usualy profound
Short Bio:Xerxes was born in southern elswyr he was a leonide of the tribe. after many battles with slavers and other tribes Xerxes was given reign of his tribe. after the corprus infection he led the men of his clan into battle with a den of the beasts,only he survived and even though his tribe was safe for the moment. he couldnt return,since then he has been wandering the lands looking for something to do.



OOC: im kinda late but hey.wtf ever xD um ill find a place to fit in when people start posting.

IC: "JACKPOT!" was Amiel's response to the wealth of item Fanier had found. Ulfgar and Waylas didn't like what seemed to be looting, but they svcked it up and did as their new boss instructed. Amiel moved over to the corpse of one of the fighter's guild members, and took a steel shortsword from his corpse. Amiel also found a iron dagger on another corpse, and added it to his belt.

"A little heavier then usual... Anyway, Fanier, I think we need to procure some horses."

Ulfgar made his way to the legion soldiers, specifically a Imperial male in his late 30's. "Excuse me sir, but the head of the fighter's guild has an offer for you."

Xerxes entered the ruins of Cheydenhal. He looked around for a sutably place to set up for the day. When he heard sobbing from around the corner. Drawing His Glaive Xerxes Looked towards what seemed to be a chapel. A little Argonian pressed against the doors weeping.Xerxes moved in closer and spoke to her softly. Of course softly to him was still like thunder."Hey,whats the matter?" Xerxes couldnt tell the age or the six of the little argonian so he tried his best talk-to-kid voice. "Are any of those mean beasties about?" Xerxes took on a feirce gaze. "Ill kick em in the head if they come around you,dont worry. Xerxes broke into a large grin. "So do you know where others are so we can be safer?" Xerxes moved a few dreds from his face and smiled at the argonian.

Primo turned slowly as he heard this.
" What kind of offer would this be? "

Xa-raku made his way back to Newlands Lodge. Naturally, it was full of decomposing corpses. It didn't take him long to notice Dro'raska, the robed figure standing on the roof. With a few simple maneuvers up the wall, Xa-raku was on the building with him. "Are you hurt?" He asked, "I'm trying to get as many survivors together as I can before we leave."

OOC: Well all thanks to W00tz who was kind enough to bring my unwilling brain up to speed, and so I've decided to rejoin.

@forrest: no need to pull me off the list.

Major IC to follow....


Adrian

Adrian watched the argument from the side, not wishing to get caught up in it. He didn't know either of them very well, and he knew how volatile Falcar could get. He was quite shocked about the fact that the entire Mages Guild would so readily abandon the rest of the city and its citizen's, but after a quick look around the guild hall, he noticed a few missing faces. His attention went back to the conversation as Falcar made his final statement and turned to go up the stairs.

Adrian's mind raced as the inevitable moral debate started up in his mind. The "saint" part of his mind told him to stay and to help those who needed it in the crisis.

But the logical part of his brain, the part that wished to remain intact and whole, told him to follow Falcar up those stairs, and to go to safety with the others, telling him people out there were done for and that there was nothing that could be done.

He looked back and forth from the door to the city, then up to the door on the stairs where Falcar had gone, the to the faces of his two comrades. He thought of his new spell, and what other myteries life held for him, and without a look at his companions, he turned and headed for the stairs, not looking back, his head hung a little in shame.

He entered the room as the last of the mages had teleported out to safety, and he went to the center of the room, preparing to do the same, when he stopped in the room. He couldn't believe he was actually going to do this. He couldn't make himself do it, even though he needed to. He slowly turned back for the door, and placed his hand on the doorknob, and opened it, moving quickly, almost bounding down the stairs.

Unfortunately, at one point, the roof was rather low, and the next thing he knew, he was looking up at the wooden ceiling, flashing purple lights in his eyes, as he slowly faded out....

-------------

Morning

Adrian heard the soft twittering of birds outside, but it muffled, drowned out by people yelling. He slowly started coming around, the grogginess disappearing from his brain as he sat up, his back sore from the awkward position as well as his head which was pounding.

He looked up at the ceiling as he remembered why he was on the floor, and he rubbed his head. "Third time this month..." he muttered as he slowly stood up, stretching his back out. He made his way down the stairs and he could hear what the yelling was about as many names were being called out. He knew people were searching for their loved ones, as he remebered what had happened last night.

He found the door to the city open as he walked out into the open, seeing a terrible scene in front of him. Bodies layed everywhere, both normal and mutated, as people turned the bodies around to see who they were. Off to the side three people went to help aomebody who was apparently moving, and Adrian turned when one man screamed. Adrian rushed to see the man's eyes bleeding heavily as well as the rest of his face, as the other two were hacking at something on the ground which was moaning loudly.

The injured man dropped to the, and the two men hurried him off, though Adrian thought they seemed hesitant to touch the man as he continued to scream in pain. Adrian continued walking, not believing what he was seeing around this once fair city. Doors lay shattered on the ground, as well as windows, shards of glass every where. At one point he found a makeshift barricade with close to a dozen Corprus piled around a half dozen soldiers, who were only recognizable by their tattered uniforms.

It was then that he realized that the Corprus were nowhere to be seen, though he didn't put much thought into it as a fair number of Cheydinhal guards came into view, as well as what looked like Legion soldiers. He figured if anybody knew what was going on it would be them so he hurried off towards them.

"Hello there!!" he called out as he neared them, slowing to a walk again. "I seem to have taken a bit of a nap during this all." he said with a sheepish smile as he rubbed his head again. "Would you mind if I tagged along? And maybe filling me in on any plans you have?" he asked.

If anyone was to have a plan it would be the Count and the watch, and the castle seemed the safest place should the Corprus come back.

****************


Rothis


The Dunmer shut his eyes tighter as the light shone into them. He continued to lay there for a minute, wondering why his bed felt so hard, and why he felt a breeze blow across his face....

Then it all rushed back to him as he sat up quickly, looking around as he saw ruined gates and guards and people rushing about as calls went about all around him. He saw his hammer and shield laying to the side, as he pushed himself up from the ground, standing rather stifly, noticing he had gotten himself into a corner and probably why nobody had carried him in. It was then he noticed a sharp pain on his arm, and a more dull pain on his side as he looked down.

What he saw nearly made him pass out. His torso had a large gash on it, from collar-bone to his hip, and was quite deep, but that wasn't what made him swoon as he sat down on the steps again. It was the fact that his entire arm had turned a nasty shade of green, except for right around the wound it was pure black, and blood was still seeping from it.

He was amazed that not major arteries had been cut, but the look of the wound made him think it was infected.... No... he thought with a look of dread on his face as he thougt of the human looking zombies from last night.

"No it can't be." he told himself. "Being stupid. Just an infection from being touched by those things, but nothing new from zombies." he muttered, though a second later he wondered why he was hiding the wound instead of looking for help.

In the back of his mind he knew that if anybody knew he had been cut from those things that they might not be so welcoming of it. He ripped a peice of his torn shirt off and began wrapping the wound as best he could, grimicing in pain as the wound gushed blood.

That done he went over to his weapons and picked them up, strapping the shield to his left shoulder, as he grimced again from the shield knocking into his wound. He switched it to his right shoulder and began down the path from the castle to the city, heading to his house to collect a few things before his next move, of which he wasn't sure of yet.

ooc: Finally, some love for the scaly. Yeesh!

ic: Trish was sitting against the door now, her feet out at odd angles with her knees touching, snout in her hands and tears pouring from her eyes. They can't be dead. They just can't. They saved me. They've been there for me all my life. I can't lose them now.. Why did this have to happen here? I wasn't exactly happy, but it was better than I'd have had in slavery. I loved them.. I can't accept it. They're not dead.

A shadow fell suddenly over Trisha's small, compacted form and for a moment she thought that one of the things had found her, but upon looking up, she saw that there was an enormous Khajiit standing in the way of the sunlight. She was barely over five feet tall and he had to be pushing seven. From her sitting position, he looked like a fur-covered mountain. Though she realized she was small and looked younger than she was, she tilted her head to the side a bit as she looked up at his face and wondered why he was talking to her like she was ten. Upon a second's thought, she sighed.

I probably look like I'm ten to him.. Huddled here, tiny and crying.

Trisha sniffed and carefully flicked a tear from her eye with one clawed nail. She wished he'd kneel down or something; she was kinda afraid he might step on her how it was. It took her a minute to regain the ability to talk, and when she did, she adopted the gruff male voice that she often used with strangers. Nobody took her seriously when they knew she was a woman. Though she looked a tad effeminate for a male, it wasn't too much of a long shot for someone unfamiliar with the scale patterns of her breed of Argonian to assume she wasn't a she.

"I.. I don't know where my family is." She began in the heavily accented voice, "They were in here last I knew, but.. after last night.." Trish trailed off, hoping he would get the gist of it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing, willing herself to avoid tears. She managed not to sob, but liquid still leaked down the side of her snout from her eyes.

"There are others in the castle up the road. My name's--" She pondered a split second, wondering if it mattered if he thought she was a freak or not. She decided that it did, and so she lied. "--Tiim-Kast, by the way. And.. I'm nineteen." The last sentence was said a little softer than the rest, as she didn't want him to think she was being confrontational in correcting what she assumed he'd assumed her age was, but didn't want him treating her like a child, either.

Primo looked to the man who had approached him.
" What`s going on, is the whole town is screwed, and i`m attempting to at least somewhat salvage it in the hopes of saving Cyrodil from these monstrocities. "

The guards opened the gate and let calendras exit. He walked down the street towards his house. Along the way he spied an overturned cart with some supplies in it. He threw out the supplies and with telekinisis pulled it along. Telekinesis was draining but he should be able to keep pulling it until he found horses. Along the monster and corpse stewn road, the sight was shocking. Along the way, he found some corpses that weren't ripped to pieces and threw them into the cart. Eventually, he came upon his house. He pushed open to door and walked in to find 15 peasants huddled up around his fire, argueing over wheter or not to leave. "Hello," He said to the survivers "It's safe outside now but..." He realised how many potentialy fresh corpses were there...hmm...No one would notice, and have the corpses around the city were rotten or ripped apart. He readied an area of affect firespell and locked the door.

It took a while the pile up all those corpses on the cart but it was filled to the brim. Now he wondered, should i preserve them all here and bury them or should i bring them along? They would be more usegul f he brought them along, but quite the burden. also, if he brought them along, people might start windering why the corpses were so fresh... He decided on taking them with him.

After this he continued along to the mages guild and walked in the destroyed door. The corpses of mages and monsters were all over the place. He threw threw a mortar and pestle into the wagon, which had little room. He walked up the stairs towards the Guild tower and found it filled with food. He would inform amiel and tell to pick up all that food. He went down a set of stairs to the basemant, where he was greeted by 5 fine corprus monsters. He threw a fireball at one and it ran around screeching, the other 4 ran at him, he created a shield and sent an area of effect shock spell flying, 3 corpruses convulsed in the eletricity and the final one hit him breaking his shield. Calendras fell backwards and left off a frost spike which went through the beasts skull.

Calendras got up again and walked over to falcars room, he doubt master falcar would have wanted him looknig around his room but he was sure many of his items would prove useful. Calendras looked in his drawer and found two black soul gems, he went over to falars nightstand and got 5 magicka restore potions, he drank two. He preceded to Falcars chest and pulled out a bundle of letters and 300 gold, along with a staff of flame, he threw away his old staff and held up this one. He would read the letters later.

He left and from the energies provided by the magicka potions managed to keep the cart going, he enchanted the corpses with a preserve necromancer spell. They should not rot for a month at least. He arrived at the fighters guild and left his cart behind and entered. He walked up to amiel who was looting the place with other fighers guild members and told him what Calendras found.

"Holy [censored]!" Fanier exclaimed, looking at the necromancer's cart full of dead bodies. "What the [censored] is that?" He walked up to the cart to get a better look. "I suppose you're going to use these bodies, make some undead servants? You know, necromancer stuff?"

"A few of them will guard our camp, yes, but when i arrive in the imperial city, i shall use them for more complex rituals. I hear the prices of corpses in the imperial city has sky rocketed, i should take advantage of this opertunity while i can. Anyway, you'll find some food in the mages guild. What I#'m worried about is horses, of course, over the night, i could resurrect some sketatol horses. If you want of course, i know some people aren't big fans of relying on Necromancy." Calendras said. He was used to people being scared, angry at or out right shcoked at necromancy. He had learned to live with it though.

"I don't care what you do for a horse," Fanier replied to Calendras's comment about resurrecting horses. "I already have one." With that, he continued examining the bodies.

Strangely, the bodies weren't ravaged in the way that most of the corpses around them were. All of these bodies were whole, no bite marks, no dismemberments, no entrails ripped out. Instead, all of them had scorch marks all over their bodies. A feeling of horrible disgust came over Fanier.

"You son of a [censored]," Fanier said angrily to Calendras. "You killed these people."

"What!?" Calendras shouted "How dare you acuse me of such a vile act! I found them in a burnt down house! Watvh yuor words, Fanier. It would not do you well to accuse an ally of murder ad anyway, why would i kill these people with so many corpses around?" Calendras was outraged. He got ready to fight and waited for Faniers reply.

OOC: Ok just to be sure, you did kill them, right? I mean the "Calendras readied a fire area effect spell and locked the door" kinda insinuated that.

@everyone: I need a head count for the next thread. PM me if you want to stay.

OOC: Ya, i killed them.

In one quick, fluid motion, Fanier drew his shortsword and brought the tip a millimeter away from Calendras's throat. "You son of a [censored], I'll kill you!"

The look of anger in Fanier's eyes pierced deep into Calendras's own, enough to freeze a grown man in fear. All the while Fanier contemplated whether or not to slice this [censored]'s head off.

Calendras started Fanier in the eye "Calm now. Put your sword away and we can talk about this properly. I assume you're doing this because I'm a necromancer, and of course all necromancers are murderers. Please Fanier, don't fall prey to sterotype. " A bead of sweat rolled down Calendras's forehead. He clenched his staff. He would not even have to utter a word to send out the fireball.

Fanier hesitated as he saw Calendras ready his staff. Nothing would make him happier at the moment than to kill this worthless piece of [censored]. Or at least make him bleed a bit.

But it wasn't worth it.

Fanier lowered his sword. "You're lucky you've got that staff," he told the necromancer. "Otherwise you'd be dead." Sheathing his shortsword, he walked away, continuing to search the wreckage.