Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20140925102931/@comment-24696651-20141003225401

Nande was sailing. He wasn't quite sure where, but he needed to be out of the Aldmeri Dominion. Hammerfell was too close, and he couldn't sail all the way to High Rock without stopping in Hammerfell. That left sailing to the east. Argonia had too many diseases, and Morrowind was still in turmoil after the eruption. Cyrodiil was still under the influence of the machinations of the Thalmor. That left Skyrim. He'd have to sail up to the Lake Runare and probably steal a horse in the Imperial City. No matter. He hoped his contact wasn't dead. She was the only person he knew that could actually use the plans he stole. He'd stop in Whiterun then head to the fort. He'd decided all of this over the course of two hours spent floating just north of Firsthold. Had he thought for longer, the navy would have found him. He was coming into the Topal Bay now, just a few hours of sailing left.

"Hey!" the guard shouted. "That's not your horse!"

Nande swore. He'd got to the stables, and his horse was just trotting out when the guard spotted him. He kicked the spurs, and the horse neighed in pain, running faster. The guard had mounted his own horse, and was chasing him. Nande galloped across the bridge, then turned right, his horse's hooves skittering, trying to find purchase, The guard, the unexperienced rider that he was, fell off. That was one problem solved. He galloped for another half minute, then slowed to a trot. He'd be in Whiterun soon.