Board Thread:Off Topic/@comment-24267938-20130804195444/@comment-12599067-20130805141817

Meanwhile, high in the Jerall Mountains, a group of hooded figures have reached their destination. The mountain is experiencing heavy snow, yet they trek up the mountain path, eager to find a way to win the war. On their way up, they are greeted by a thundering voice, "Why do you trek up this mountain, fahliil? Turn back now." Instead of heeding the the warning, they walk further up the mountain. Finally, they have reached the top. An old, weathered looking dragon is perched atop a rock. He glowers at them, studying them. The hooded figures take down there hoods to reveal themselves as Thalmor mages. "Why do you fahliil venture to the hoe of Nahlotkahdaal, the Dragon lich?" His blue, almost draugr-like eyes burn through them, until one steps forward. "The Dominion has taken over much of Skyrim. If you're a law abiding citizen-" He is stopped by deep laughter. The ancient dragon shakes his horned head. "Fool. Give me a reason if should not blow you mal joorre off daar strunmah." They look at each other nervously. They were honestly hoping that the dragon would be afraid of them, but thinking back on it, they all knew that was a lie. One steps forward. "Under the orders of commander Elenwen, I request a deal." Nahlotkahdaal clambered off his rock, making sure to be glaring at the Altmer the whole time. "Who are you, mal fahliil?" The elf straightened. "Ondolemar, sir." The dragon studies him, bringing his maw close enough to devour the elf in a single snap of his jaws.

''I'm sorry, folks. I'll write more later.''