OOC: For those of you who have no idea what kind of place we are in (woolymammoth) heres a video of privateers hold. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsspkwmuaJc&feature=related

Kiel turned to the Nord, becoming infuriated at his futile attempts to take charge. "Are you stupid Nord? We aren't in a large cave that need mapping, the passage out of this cavern and into Privateer's hold is literally only a few steps away from you! The only thing that would possibly be down to come and get us are some rats, understand?" Kiel took a deep breathe. "None of us intend to stay in this "cave" forever, we all merely need to rest and heal. How come you are the only person who doesn't realize we are safe where we are?" Kiel sighed. He turned back to the fire, and everyone around it, he gave his attention to them, but spoke loud enough for everyone to here. "Now, anyone worried about injuries, I can treat many things through herbalism." Kiel took out his herb pouch, most of his herbs still worked well when wet, so that didn't concern him, his only concern is that he would run out of herbs that would be needed for later.

"These two are right." Garum said, pointing at Kiel and Elarian, "We need to rest and heal before we think about going anywhere. I haven't been to this place before, but I have been in other similar places. If there is any inhabitants in Privateer's Hold, then they will kill us without a moment's thought if they see us, or at least they'll try to. It looks like we have at least one broken leg, two head injuries... we should rest a while. We've been through quite an ordeal, and it's natural for tempers and tensions to flare."

The Altmer battlemage narrowed his eyes, "Don't let it flare out of control, though. I won't let some fool ruin the chances of survival for the rest of us. I served in the Imperial Legion for over thirty years. I won't hesitate to set fire to anybody who does something that would ruin the rest of us." Garum clicked his fingers, and a small fireball flared to life over his hand, hovering there. He gazed into the flames, gently manipulating their burn, "It will not be a quick burn either... it'll be slow and agonizing. I think I speak for us all when I say that none of us wants that."

Garum looked around from face to face, then reached over to take a small log out of the fire. He set the flames on it out, but most of it still glowed with embers. "Now will somebody please cauterize this gash in my head so I don't bleed out?" He asked, holding up the log.

As Garum asked for someone's help to cauteriz his wound, Elarian had a small appreciative smile Altmers have a repute for being effete pansies, but that one isn't. Thirty years of Legion have beaten the chaff out....

"I can do better than that. Cauterizing is he sort of quick and nasty fixes I don't care for if I can avoid them."

Whispering a short incantantion he placed hi fingers on Garum's wound, letting a trickle of magicka flo out, mending the skin and staunching the blood. some of the magic spilling deeper and easing the concussion, at least for a while.

"I can't do more than this, but at least you won't leak blood all over the place. It won't do much good on anything like broken bones or internal injuries. That spells isn't meant for more than patching up the lightly wounded and keeping the others alive until a surgeon or healer can work on them."

"What!" the nord yelled, 'I am only suggesting things, i could beat your little head in in a split second, how in the heck am I supposed what the place is like? I was suggesting a mini barricade that would give us time, and time only, do you think I WANT to be trapped in here. I was trained by the blades since birth, Do you think I'm an idiot?" Marcus was getting very mad at Keil, he felt Keil was being disrespectful and that he was trying to make him fell like he and his whole family were being dishonored because of him. He sat around the fire in deep thought, then got up to walk around. He had always been sad that everyone else had had a real mother and father, but he didn't, just his uncle to look over him at times. He sat back down near the fire, and shoved his sword into the dirt. After that he rested his elbow on it.

OOC: Sorry about my absence...

IC: Davian finally recovered from his trip to insanityland in time to hear one of the survivors defend trying to build a lamp. His senses raced a few moments, filling the psychotic Breton in on what happened during his mental absence, clearing the confusion. "Watch your temper, fool," he snarled at the upstart Nord. "I have met Orcs more civil than you in my travels." He paused for a moment, before continuing, "That rat was a small one... and there is far worse in this place than these. Privateer's hold may be an abandoned robber's den, but vengeful spirits still walk the cursed halls. If I remember correctly, an ancient fortress once stood here, now sunk into the bay through the centuries. There are stories told about this place, some more terrifying than others."

The breton knew the stories quite well, having grown up in Daggerfall. However, even they paled in comparison to the tales of far greater deathtraps than here. "I am with general consensus that we should rest until we are healed, and that a barricade will be a waste of energy at best. We have two... maybe three competant warriors here. Nothing can get through that, Fortressbrain."

Tobias made a low growl as he held his head sitting by the fire, He held it abit as a headache subsided "Erf..." he wasnt as injured as the others but his trench coat was alittle on the end of ruined. Something to be fixed later when he got out of this place. He looked around as the fire was picked up abit by the elves' magick and smiled lightly holding his slowly drying furred hands out to it, chuckling lightly. His left arm he had put a makeshift bandage around it to stop the bleeding from the chunk of wood that had gone in. He stayed silent throughout the arguments of building a barricade and not. "Im not that very hurt. If need be I could sit up alittle further and keep an eye out. Just incase." he spoke up finally thinking that it was the best tactical thing they could do. He was made for stealth and wouldnt be easily detected.

Sigmund collapsed beside the fire and passed out from the massive loss of blood that nobody seemed to care about in the least.

Losse whimpered as he shuffled along the ground towards the fire and the crowd. Thank the Gods I'm not alone. He felt light-headed from the blood loss, but when he focused and looked at his hand, it was not broken - ather scarred by a myriad of tiny cuts as if by glass. The tiny cuts had scattered across his arm too. Luckily, however, the salt water had cleansed the little wounds and the bleeding was slowing down and the cuts healing.

Everybody in the circle had something to say and Losse listened intently as he could. My opinion won't matter. I'm just an incircumstantial Nord in the back right now. I might leave it to the others. A twig of wood was lying on the ground by him, washed up by the swirling waters. Clenching his teeth across it and shutting his eyes, Losse tried to pull off his tunic, succeeded, then reached into his chest for a new one. While damp, his chested clothes were pleasantly dry. His mail shirt, flail, mandolin and other belongings were intact. With his fresh garb on, he placed his mandolin close to the fire. It would warp terribly if substantial moisture got to it.

Garum frowned at the Nord who was now doing little more than ranting. Is he arguing for the sake of arguing, or is he really that stupid? Garum wondered, watching the Nord walk away and... Sulk? The Altmer shook his head. "Forget Orcs, I've met Ogrim and Minotaurs with more manners than that one." Garum sneaked a glance at the sulking Nord, "Probably a bit more intelligence too." A bit of laughter shook Garum's chest; his was the first laughter he had heard since awakening in this cave with the others.

Now that the pain and dizziness were subsiding, Garum took the time to check his gear. He had lost most everything other than what he was wearing. What he was wearing was not too much. His armor was of a medium weight, and thankfully the water that had pulled him into the cave was shallow enough that the armor didn't sink him to the bottom and drown him. A few bits of seaweed were still hanging from the metal plates, and Garum picked them off.

The Altmer's head turned to regard the Khajiit. "Yes, you should probably do that." he replied to Tobias. Khajiit have better hearing and eyesight than men or mer, especially in the dark. He's a great choice for a scout. Garum thought.

As Marcus flew in an outburst before retiring in a brooding silence, Elarian looked discretly at him, wondering. The Blades are supposed to be professionals. That kind of tantrum definitively isn't. Either he's new to this, or he's lying though his teeth, hoping to be 'the boss'. Bah, all he's getting now is scorn. And it won't improve my opinion of Nords as a whole...

Now that things were somewhat settled he inspected the bundle of clothing and armor,settinghtem by the fire to dry next to Losse's mandolin It wasn't booze in this chest. Maybe there's more than the vomit-stained drunkard fisrt impression I had.

A bit lost in his thoughts and the task of setting his belongigns to dry, Elarian held his reaction when an especially large nord crawled out from some dark corner of the cave, leaving a trail of blood as he collapsed near to the fiere. Oddly he had an ebony spear tied to his hand. Good way to keep it, but good way to get your hand ripped off if the spear get trapped somewhere. I'd rather have stuck it into something that floats and hoped to recover it rather than taking such a chance. But why in Vivec's name had it to be a damn nord ? that's the fourth of the breed... Furs, tatoos, plenty of scars and built like a bear... looks like the worst sort of bigoted backwood brutes Skyrim has to offer.

"That one needs more attention than I can provide, he's leaking blood all over the place. Do we have something to bandage his wounds ? I'd rather keep some of my magic if some of the locals pay us a visit..."

At that thought, Elarian picked a few pieces of wood, handing them to the khajit "If there's a door or the like, you should put that in the way, to make some noise if someone or something tries to sneak in."

ooc: In future, people, please don't dictate what my character is doing; she was said in a few posts to be walking around healing people when she never even offered to heal people yet. Makes it very hard to think of how to post when you have to account for things they did before they were meant to. I don't mean to be pissy, but I'm exhausted already a lot lately and thus hard enough to come up with a decent post after missing a couple pages without trying to noodle out extra complication.

As of now, a bunch of people started interaction with Sammensia, then ran off to do something else before I could reply, so.. I really have no idea what to post, or even what's going on, even after rereading most of the posts several times.. If someone could PM me with exactly what's going on where so I can sort things out, hopefully I can get righted again..

Tobias shook his head alittle and stood up "Fair enough. If anyone or anything starts coming this way and I cant take it, watch for a bright flash. Should give you enough warning." he said and picked up his bow off the ground, standing up and onto his feet. He gave a light nod to the altmer, having a high respect for them, especially battle mages. Hopefully I dont have a dizzy spell from this... I wonder.. he thought for a moment as Tobias began to move down the cavern, his eyes starting to adjust to the darkness around him giving an almost perfect view of the ruins. I wonder if I can catch a rat while watching out. Im kind of hungry actually... he thought to himself chuckling lightly as the black khajiit disappeared into the darkness that was the cavern. However the khajiit approached a door sometime after, the fire was still partly visible with its welcoming glow around the bend. Eyeing the door off Tobias gently felt along it and pushed it open his way, a low creak echoing from its age old hinges. I can keep this door pried open alittle with the wood on both sides... he thought and cracked the wood, making two small doorstops and positioned the door an inch from closing, really jamming the wet wood into its base making it stick on both sides. Withthat he sat on a rock and watched.

ooc: Im only takign a guess here. I looked at that video but figured since its rp, it would be more.. larger and stuff.

"Nice instrument there." Garum said, nodding to the mandolin that Losse had placed by the fire. For a moment, the Altmer found himself wishing that the man could play the instrument. I don't know about everybody else, but I could certainly use a lift in spirits. He thought to himself glumly. "When it's dry, you should play us a tune."

The fire crackled softly as Garum stood. His head hurt less, and he suspected that he probably did not have a concussion. Surface head wounds always act worse than they are. He reminded himself. Although he was still a bit dizzy upon standing up, Garum knew it was likely from hunger or weakness rather than head trauma. He paced a bit, trying to walk off his discomfort and wake himself up a bit more. He looked around at everybody else. They were in various stages of shock and injury, and so far nobody was stepping up to the plate to rally people. Damn it, where is that Nord? The one who was supposed to have spoken with Ocato or the Emperor personally? Shouldn't he be in charge?

Loss? nodded, managing one of the smiles that came so easily, so naturally, to his face in better days. It was a struggle but he fought through in good Nordic fashion. "Indeed," he replied to the Altmer, "I would play a song, and I could spin a tale for you all... if only she were dry." He looked down on the dark red wood longingly. "The Aldudaggavelashadingas are a mighty cycle, but not for today, it seems. Gods know we need out spirits lifted!"

The Nord was quickly drying off. It might be a good idea to set my shield, mail, helm and blade by the fire too. The last thing I need is rusty belongings! He shifted his weight and pulled the things from his chest. They landed in a pile as he dropped them. Fumbling to pick them up again, he rearranged them close to the flickering flames. From the bottom of his chest, nestled between some dry furs that still smelled of wet dog, he produced an antler comb and began brushing his hair straight. It had knotted and mangled in the water, tying itself around the leather lashing that had held it in a ponytail. With two hands he wrung it out and a puddle formed on the ground where the drops of water hit the ground.

"So?" he began, wincing as he combed out his blonde locks. "What are we doing? Sitting here all this time? We have to make a decision. If we don't get out, things are only going to get worse. What're we going to do ONCE we're out of here?" He indicated around the hole they sat in with his free hand. "I don't intend on sitting in here forever. Soon as my gear is dry and I'm feeling better, I'm getting out of here. I don't know about you lot, but I have a life and things that I still want to do."

He looked down. Was I too blunt? Embarassed, he continued. "I apologize, I'm too hasty... I'm not in a good way, nor are you all. Just. Sitting around won't make things any better. Especially if we're waiting on a few immature people who want to show off." He sniffed at the air. The mingled smells of wet dog, blood and salt were awful.

ooc: Okay, for the sake of my sanity, I'm just gonna post and hope for the best, lol. If I wait too long I'll be hopelessly lost.

ic: The world was a bit of a blur to Sammensia as she sat there by the fire, warming up trying not to fall asleep. In her half-asleep state, she'd cooked the meat from her satchel, though she'd burnt one of the bits of meat a tad. But it's still fine. I'll eat it. She thought, looking at the burnt piece of food. The little elf had had some limited cookware in her pack, but no plates, so she simply set the food out where anyone could grab some, still on what'd it'd been cooked on.

"Food's done if anyone wants some.." She announced groggily, her vision dim and head swimming. Her throat hurt and her body ached from the dehydration all the saltwater she'd swallowed, combined with her bout of vomiting, had forced upon her. "Weakly, she looked up at the Altmer next to her and swallowed dryly. She'd never felt this horrible that she could recall and felt the grip of panic creeping up on her. Sammensia knew if she freaked out, she'd only make it worse, but the the thought that this horrible discomfort might not go away for a long time was something she did not like. "Do.. do you have any water? I feel like I'm going to pass out if I don't get a drink soon.." She rasped up at the golden skinned man.

"Rather than talk about it then, let's just reach a consensus," said Volumnius, while splinting his leg the best he could with his lack of experience and one good arm. The splint would at least do well enough for a while, he figured. "Let's look at our options: if we stay here, we can lick our wounds for a while, but there are still the issues of food, whatever else has made this place its home, and the fact that we may very well start killing each other within a few days," he noted plaintively. "On the other hand, if we get going now, it will be more difficult going, what with our wounds, but, well, we'll be out of here...and that is a very attractive prospect - attractive enough to make me endure my own wounds, at least," he indicated to his two limbs.

"Personally, I say we go." This time, Volumnius looked resolutely at each person, a determined look in his eye. "Things will be much better if we can just get out of here and to the nearest settlement. There are risks, yes, but look, we've got at least half a dozen able-bodied people. I've even got one good arm to use. Here, we have no water, and little - if any - food. We'll die in here before we die on our way out." He glanced around at the others to note their reactions. "At least that's my opinion."

After that little speech, he turned and said to the Altmer, a little sheepishly, "Excuse me, sir, but you know a few spells, yes? Could...could you hit me with something to at least numb the pain, so I can walk?" The pilgrim wasn't entirely sure how to ask someone to cast a spell on him; he'd never really had any experience with magic users, besides the occasional priest.

Tobias waited around in boredom now as it slowly started to set in, he noticed a rat poking its head out from under a small pile of rubble, quickly Tobias drew his knife from his boot and stabbed the rat as it came out. Watching it squirm and looking around making sure noone was watching he gripped its head and snapped its neck. He didnt like live food, no matter the circumstances. The rat was large and looked quite tasteful, though he didnt want risk of disease and decided to throw it down to the group at the fire, the rat landing with a thump by a rock just near them.


ooc: Anything you guys want to come haunting our way?

Elarian pointd at the unconscious bulk of Sigmund "I we go what shall we do about him ? Hauling that big brute would be a real pain. Though if we don't do something about his wounds, it won't be too long before it doesn't matter anymore. I know enough healing magic to stop the bleeding, but I'm not good enough to have him up and walking."

He paused a short while, thinking about the situation "If we had enough healing magic available to get everyone walking, I'd just go for that option. As it seems we can't, I'd rather focus what we have on those who can walk, or be made walking. As far as I know he can't, that means we'll have to leave him here - dragging someone that big for I don't know how long facing unkown opposition is likely to get us killed. And if we leave him behind, there's no point in patching him."

Banor didn't really care about being ignored as when he spoke, he hadn't felt right when he said it for some reason. And the scratching of blade on his finger only helped so much, he looked down to see blood covering the dark hand. He had to stop it, not because it looked bad, but because of safety. He sheathed the blade, an unusually sensible act for him, and then returned his attention to the group, who he was content to merely watch for a while.

He began to listen, but then his senses were completely dragged away by a certain scent: that of cooking food. He turned towards the spell, svcking his bloody finger as he did so to get rid of the blood, and saw a small woman offering it up. Banor was quite small himself compared to many of the group, but to him, this elf was tiny, he consciously stared at her fascinated, before glancing back towards the food. He was starving. He didn't stand, but instead crawled over to her side of the fire, grabbing a reasonable amount of the stuff and digging in with his bloodied and dirty hands.

Then, the small one spoke again. 'Do.. do you have any water? I feel like I'm going to pass out if I don't get a drink soon..' She said weakly, and Gwinas stared at her again.

"The little one needs a -a -a drink." He said loudly and excitedly, returning back to his food and putting all his concentration on it as he ate quickly and messily. "D'they- hear me?" He muttered, out of earshot of all except those listening intently.

Garum smiled slightly at Losse, "Aye, I'd like that. I'm sure some music would help us all, once your instrument dries." Truthbetold, Garum was looking for a way to raise everybody's mood. They all seemed in shock from the wreck. He had to admit that he himself felt a little shock as well, but what was left of it was wearing out quickly. It was the first time Garum had been in a shipwreck, but it was not nearly the first time he had been in a life or death situation. A close brush with death wasn't something he'd had for decades, but it was something that one didn't often forget. And during my years in the Legion, I faced my death a dozen times over. Maybe I'm getting used to it.

What Garum was or was not calloused to didn't matter, however, because half of these men and women likely had never been in a situation where all hope seemed lost. "Once we get out of here," Garum continued, "We need to find food and shelter. That means a city. Does anybody know where the nearest city to Privateer's Hold is? We should head there."

Garum nodded in agreement with Volumnius. "Enough of the majority are travel worthy, I think we can support the others. The man is right, though. We need to move out of here as quickly as we can. We have no supplies, unless anybody thought to raid the ship's hold before the wreck. We'd be better off moving out of here quickly. I doubt the cave system is inhabited, but if it is, we really don't want to be stuck down here. If there is somebody up there, once they realize they have potential prisoners in here, I doubt they'll be eager to let us leave without some kind of blackmail or shakedown first." The thought that potential inhabitants of the cave were benevolent never entered Garum's mind. Anybody who chooses to live in 'Privateer's Hold' is likely somebody to live up to the name of the cave... or they want to be associated as a privateer.

The Altmer leaned in closer to Volumnius, "I am a battlemage of the Imperial Legion. I know very little in the way of healing. The best I can do is to cauterize your open wounds, if you have any, but if I'm not mistaken all you suffer from is a broken bone. I can't do anything about the pain, but I can set the bone for you, if you like."

Garum stood up, and was about to look around for some water when he realized they didn't have any supplies with them. The Bosmer woman was thirsty, but unless she felt like drinking salt water from the mouth of the cave where they'd washed ashore, she was in tough luck. Idley, Garum noticed that like himself, the Bosmer woman had tattoos stitched across her face. They were of a sort he had never seen before, and he doubted they were made with enchanted ink, as his had been.

"We have no water." He said to her and Banor, "Nobody brought a keg of palatable water from the ship's hold before the crash." Garum finished. He had started pacing to get his blood flowing again when Elarian proposed that they leave the unconscious Nord behind.

Garum frowned, "We aren't leaving anybody behind. That's tantamount to murder!" Perhaps it was his Legion training, but Garum would never leave a man behind, especially a wounded one. "There is wood around. That door, for instance," Garum said, pointing at the door where the Khajiit stood watch, "We can take the hinges off and it'll make an adequate litter for him if he hasn't woken up by the time we're set to leave."

"Did you have a good look at him ? with this wet fur armor I'd say he weights something like three hundred pounds. Even stripped to hies briefs that's probably two undreds and a half. Even with a stretcher, that means two really strong persons, or three to four average ones, to carry him over any long distance. Which will leave us rather short if we get surprised. That's why I said hauling him would put all of us into danger."

Not willing to appear more ruthless than he truly was, Elarian precised his thoughts.

"If we can have him at least able to walk, that's what we should do. But if we can't, carrying him will takes more of those able to fight than I think we can afford. No matter how we don't like the fact, we must decide if it's a risk worth taking or not."

Julia shrugged and sat back, her offer to cook ignored. Everyone around her was disputing what they should do next. Some wanted to push on immediately, others wished to stick around the fire and rest. One man, a Nord with an oddly childish temperament, suggested building a barricade, and them left the group to sulk when the others rejected the idea.

Julia ignored the debate and instead fixed her attention on the Nord with the mandolin. He was the man who had been blocking the stairs before the wreck, she remembered. His instrument was a fine one, and it would be a shame if it was warped from the sea-water. She was doubly impressed when the man mentioned, offhand, the Aldudaggavelashadingas, which were an impressive feat for any bard, and one which she had never mastered. She did know fragments of the Remanada, but mostly her repertoire was made up of more modern songs like "Lord Livian" or "Azura and the Bear". And now, she reflected glumly, I don't even have an instrument.

After a few moments Julia tuned back into the conversation. The Altmer battlemage and the Dunmer were arguing about what they should do about the unconscious Nord. Julia decided to venture an opinion. Addressing the Altmer she said, "Excuse me, but I know a few healing spells myself. Nothing major, I'm afraid, but perhaps if we combined our efforts and those of anyone else who can cast Restoration, we could muster up enough magic to get the man conscious and on his feet." She shrugged. "Or perhaps it wouldn't work. But we must try something, mustn't we?"

OOC: Can my character sheet be spiced up by adding "Bonus damage vs. Doors" as an advantage to his character sheet? Or would that be too ridiculous, even for Daggerfall?

IC: When the dunmer seemed to insist on leaving the Nord behind, Davian spun violently to face him, subconsciously reaching for his axe. His sudden violent outburst was immediately quelled by the absence of his weapon, which forced him to check his actions. "Yes, it is worth the risk," he answered hotly, his words being forced to substitute for his swords. "It doesn't take long to set him down if the situation gets hot, and we do have a decent advance scout, even if he is a bit furry. I can be one of us to carry him. Any other takers?" He calmed down the longer he spoke, as his righteous anger faded. "Enough innocent victims have been claimed by the storm... lets not have it claim another, one we could have saved."

"And for my advice on the matter at hand... if we were not out of water, I would suggest we stick around long enough for all of us to be in peak condition. Unfortunately, we have no idea how long we've been without water, and our condition will only suffer the longer we wait," he said after completely calming down. "I say we heal what we can in an hour, try to wake the Nord, and head off as soon as possible. And I shall refrain from kicking or otherwise breaking down the doors."

"I am sitting on a beach. it is sunset. i am dreaming."
Sigmund stood up and looked out over the water at the setting sun. It is a good dream. He turned to see a great golden bear approaching him, it's massive head lolling from side to side. Sigmund knew there was no danger in this animal, but he was prepared for anything. The bear seemed to float past the dreaming nord and walked out across the surface of the water toward the setting sun.

Sigmund was in a cavern. Around him were the bodies of his shipmates. Worms crawled in and out of their empty eyesockets and burrowed through their rotting flesh. the smell of putrefying meat filled his nose.

Everything was black. Sigmund saw nothing. He tasted nothing, he smelled nothing, he heard nothing.

He was nothing.

One word rang through him like a hammer striking an anvil. It overwhelmed him, forcing him into semi-consciousness.

Burden


Sigmund stirred slightly, a small sound escaping from his lips.

"Leave me," he struggled, "I have my weapon and i have my honour. May the gods embrace me as a friend"

"What's a little wet fur amongst friends, eh?" Garum asked with a laugh as Elarian continued to complain about the Nord's bulk. The Altmer was seriously considering how they would move him, when the human woman brought up a good point about healing. Garum nodded his agreement.
"Do whatever you can for him. The Nord needs the healing more than any of us right now, and I don't intend on leaving him behind. We'll carry him with us, or get him healed to the point where he can walk on his own, if we can." Garum continued, "Anybody who tries to say we leave him is getting a little burn on the backside from now on, got it? I'm going to lay down the Garum Rules. Rule number one; We don't leave anybody behind, no matter what."

The Altmer looked down at the Nord as he slowly awakened. The wounded man slurred his words as he spoke, trying to make himself understood. In the end, it was quite easy for Garum to decipher the man's words. Garum had spent enough time in Bruma to learn how to understand a half-drunk Nord, and one who received a hit on the head was little different.

"There's an old saying." Garum said to the injured Nord, "Honour is of no use to the dead. It means that if you die, your honour is worthless to you. Sure, it may affect how everybody remembers you, but whether you die with or without honour the gods will still grant your soul the same fate that you deserved. Living a little longer isn't dishonourable. In fact, coming back from an injury like this will grant you even greater honour. How's that sound, eh?" Garum smiled at the man, "Hold on just a little longer for me. I'll see you through this." The Altmer's eyes shifted up to look at every person, going from face to face, "I am going to see all of you through this. This I swear upon my ancestors."

Garum took the oath seriously. He wouldn't stand to see more loss of life. I failed to stop my wife's death thirty years ago. Now, I have more lives in my hands, and I will not allow them to perish!