Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20131228033942/@comment-12599067-20131228144451

(My money's on Gandalf.)

Claudius arose earlier than usual, the morning sun shining bright over the hills of Cyrodiil. He took a deep breath and walked to the window, scanning for anything suspicious. Having not found anything, he let out a sigh of relief and turned, heading for the door. He grabbed his bag and put his hand on the knob, pausing to think for a moment. He then turned back and walked over to Paris, who was still sleeping soundly, and bent over to kiss her forehead, careful not to wake her. "I'll be back, Paris. I promise," he vowed, then turned back to the door and left the room.

Jack wasn't up earlier than usual, mainly because he hadn't gotten any sleep. He was still reviewing notes and papers, already having told the captain they would stop in the Imperial City, but this time something was... different. He felt an opressive weight bearing down on his shoulders, like a giant boot was trying to crush him underfoot. He wasn't sure how Cynthia and the other Peacekeepers could deal with it. Of course, finding the necromancers wasn't the only thing that had kept him up. He had entertained many options of dealing with the situation, but only one seemed to really make sense. If he killed Mak now, Jack had thought, then they could avoid the problem altogether. It was a lunatic's plan, but a voice in the back of his mind told him that was the best option, and the voice was probably out.

Jack let out a groan of exhaustion and exasperation, smacking his head against the table with a dull thud. He grabbed his nearly empty wine glass and walked on deck, hoping to clear his mind.