Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20140925102931/@comment-24696651-20141003230551

Finally, he had reached Whiterun. And a horde of Daedra was marching south to meet him. He'd gone from elite spy to Thalmor fugitive to target of Daedra in just a day. This was bad. He rode west, up the mountain of Bleak Falls Barrow, hoping to move around the Daedra. But a scamp had spotted him. He swore, and fiddled with the crossbow, trying to reload it. He heard a click, and, readying himself for the recoil, was relieved when he skewered the small group of scamps heading for him. His horse whinnied, stumbling a bit, and a few Clannfears and Spider Daedra turned - the fasted types. He kicked his spurs once more, riding hard for Whiterun, with around fifty Daedra chasing him. His horse jumped over a rock, barely outpacing the Daedra, and Nande saw a company of fighters. He changed course, jumped over a the river, and reined his horse in when he saw, panting, jumping of a horse, his contact, the technological expert. Casseth or something. He'd met her trying to stir up unrest by supporting the Stormcloaks. He hoped she remembered. What was his alias? Vocaintar?

"Casseth. What the hell were those Daedra doing?" he called out.