Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140217201750/@comment-24123288-20140218002907

(*sigh* Here...)

Mikasa made her way out of Wenyandawik, shadows always following her. More seemed to appear to tug away at her own shadow the more she used her powers.

I wonder if that prick Bellator has reached the Imperial City yet?

The Breton chuckled to herself, revelling in the joy she felt when she cut that bastard Wood Elfs neck open. His gurgling screams fading away to nothing as he fell. The blood spraying high to the air, covering her and the floor around in that glorious red substance.

Mikasas smile grew as she walked through the forest, she could just make the outline of the road and jogged towards it. Finally, she burst out of the trees and found herself looking at Bravil. The horrid cesspool of a town that really needed a good...clean.

''Ah, Bravil. The Riften of Cyrodiil I find. Full of shadows and even shadier people. A perfect place for me to lie low for the moment.''

The sun was setting as she walked down the road, throwing her shadow to her right, extending it for a few meters. It walked alongside her, ever obedient until the shadow of a passing rabbit crossed its path.

Mikasas shadow snatched the rabbits and absorbed it into her. Leaving the creature dead on the hill. The Bretons shadow seemed to grow, only slightly, larger as it consumed the darkness of the rabbit, bolstering her own magic.

Mikasa stopped, turning her head to her left to look at White-Gold tower, another scowl forming on her brow.

''The Emperor. Residing at the very top of his magically crafted tower where he ruins the blood of Tamriel itself. I will destroy you and your corruption of our world!''

She stared in disgust as the tower was lit up on all sides with the Beaumanic lamps that were installed over a decade ago now, her scowl turning into another smirk.

The brightest lights, cast the darkest shadows...