The resting places for the dead where never this quiet. Even with draugr corpses lining the way, there way no way to know if any of their wounds where recent; they were corpses already after all. The ruin was silent but the dust didn’t sit still in the air.
Vigor saw a clearing beyond a closed iron gate. He’d kept an arrow keen and ready when they saw the first draugr. If someone was waiting for them in that clearing, then the only thing that stood between them was that iron gate.
“You should stay behind me.” He’d only ever seen Vevel in close-combat, her Thu’um might be useful be he was the one with the bow. He needn't insult her by saying how that clearing was perfect for an ambush. “Please.” Vigor's voice was no more than firm, even if his face was pleading.
He was careful not to let his footsteps echo as he took to the very edge of the round walls of the tomb. He looked back at Vevel before opening the iron gate with the pull of a chain.
Vigor looked back at her. Dressed in good, heavy armour with Kyne’s voice behind her. As formidable as he knew Vevel to be he had to be cautious for her. The quiet would not ease him.
The walls formed shadows all around. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Vigor slithered up against a column, looking out into the shade that covered them. An arm reached out from the shadows and pulled Vigor back, hammering his head against a wall. He fell to the floor, his head pinned under the heel of a boot.
Why where they hesitating the kill him.
He could barely hear someone shouting, barely hear them say ‘Vevel’ which such disdain. But he could barely move. He saw the blurred face above him look towards the person shouting and took the chance to take the dagger at his thigh.
Vigor forced himself to listen. “...Silver Hand...” Whoever that was they were threatening her. They may have hesitated but he was still in the crossfire of it. It didn’t matter, and he had to take back the element of surprise. Vigor forced himself around and stabbed the man above him right by the knee. He crawled till he barely stood. “Vevel!” He shouted, words slurred and wild and feeling lost in the blur.
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how my muse clicked with yours : immediately┆almost right away┆slowly┆after several interactions┆they haven’t a thought my muse has about yours : "I know I worry too much. But she’s much too young and I don’t think she sleeps. She tries to pretend it doesn’t matter, but that’s not right, is it?”a strange thought my muse has about yours : “I probably shouldn't think this, but if I see her getting in trouble I might just pick her up and walk away. She’d hate me though...”(Said with a grin and a slip of a hearty giggle)a thread/plot i’d like for our muses : Finding out about Vevel’s lycanthrophy the hard way. Just talking about family because we’ve both been tough on our muses there. I’m also not reasonable if Vigor adopts doorstep babies.
“Miss Vevel, you have a most lovely home.” Vigor had taken to calling her that. ‘Miss’ by habit and politeness toward her, but using her first name as she preferred.
Vevel was the other side of the home when he heard a knock on the door. It would be easier if he answered the door himself and he doubted Vevel would mind.
“Hello...” He called out, but no one was there. His eyes slowly panned down to the baby by the door. His eyes widen with shock. What should he do?
“Miss Vevel...” Vigor called back, confused and tentative as he looked down at the child. He carefully picked it up and slowly cradled it. He had no idea what to do but the little noises it made were so cute. He slowly walked over to Vevel, child in his arms, as he showed her the baby hoping she’d somehow know what to do.
How best to greet her? ‘I’m sorry I didn’t see you down there’. Noo I use that one waay too much. ‘Hey Vevel fancy a trip to Riverwood, hop in my pocket’…we have a winner.
The last rays of the sun stretched across the barren land, as the dark figure of a man walked down the empty road. He walked slowly, pausing occasionally to admire the eerie beauty that the desolate land held. With each step, the sun sank further beneath the treeline; soon the land would be consumed by the darkness of night.
The man stopped to tighten his black cloak draped over his shoulders, as a familiar chill crept across the land. He adjusted his wide brimmed hat, pulling the mask over his face in preparation for the cold. He was well acquainted with the chill of night, and not bothered by the darkness that was soon to follow.
As he stood adjusting his gear, he could hear the call of wolves in the distance. 'How the wolves howl," he thought to himself, as he listened. 'There will be much work to do tonight." He reached to his side, feeling the hilt of his sword, before starting forward again.
The road took him through the bleak land, until at last he came to the edge of a forest. The forest was as dead as the land, made up of towering trees with gnarled branches. It would have appeared completely dark had it not been for the pale sphere of the moon that shone down, partially covered by clouds. There was no hesitation as he entered into the gloom of the forest, leaving the land behind him.
As he walked under the sea of crooked branches, he heard a sound from off the path. Instantly he brought out the sword, prepared to strike at whatever might appear. There was complete silence as he stood in wait, prepared to do his duty.
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The Imperial slowly rose to his feet, feeling a small pulse of pain in his leg. “I’m fine, I just tripped over something,” he reassured her. “If it weren’t so dark, then I’d be doing a lot better.” He paused. “Or if I had enough common sense to bring a torch.”
It was the waiting that truly bothered Enovire, not knowing if she was still alive. Leaning back against the damp cave wall, he peered down the dim passageway in hopes of seeing some sort of movement. Vevel had disapeared some time ago to scout up ahead, and his concerns were increasing by the moment.
At last, after what seemed a lifetime of waiting he saw Vevel emerge from the shadows. “You came back!” He called in relief.
'I still find it a bit unnerving that she's a werewolf. I remember one particular conversation about the taste of raw meat. I wonder what types of raw meat she consumes while in the form of a werewolf… No that's something that I don't want to think about.'