Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140708165409/@comment-24685738-20140713022729

The Next Day, after Maria’s outburst

Umir, the leader of the Scouts near Falkreath, was becoming worried. The grass had decayed, the vegetation was dying…

Worse, the Town was inhabited by zombie-like people.

Was it an infection? A plague? An acting troupe?!

He had no idea. Umir really hoped that the Plague was confined to the Town.

He turned away, shuddering, noticing that his limbs and eyelids felt heavier, than before. Just tired… He thought, as he reached his camp, glancing at the other scouts. ''Kill… Kill… Infect…. Hurt… Fallen…''

His eyes narrowed, as he stared at his comrades. Weak… Master… Namira… Blighted Knight… Fallen…

One of his fellow scouts, Daria, looked up. “Are you…. Feeling okay, Umir?” She asked, nervously. “What happened to your eyes?” She questioned, her hand reaching for the dagger hanging at her side.

“Eyes?” Umir grunted, noticing the movement. Slowly, he slung his bow off of his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

Daria now drew her dagger, as Umir placed an arrow on his bowstring.

“Y-your eyes… They’re not p-purple anymore… They’re w-white…”

Umir grunted again, angrily. “Purple eyes are stupid.” He remarked, as he aimed and fired, impaling Daria through the neck with a grey-shafted arrow.

His other comrades yelled, angrily, and reached for their weapons.

One threw a dagger at him, slicing his bowstring in two.

He chuckled, as he stood up, running at his comrades.

…

That night, Umir, his skin now pale and his eyes white, feasted on the dead flesh of his former comrades, before shuffling back towards the Underland…

He had a mission, now.

One that even the Blighted Knight had failed at.

--

Meanwhile

Captain Arro watched his Queen, worriedly. Outwardly, she seemed fine.

None of the citizens and refugees knew what ailed her.

However, none of the citizens/refugees heard her broken sobbing at night.

Every day that passed, the sobbing grew louder and more heartbreaking, and her eyes seemed to stare farther into the distance.

Two Days, after Maria’s Outburst

Captain Arro no longer allowed any citizens/refugees to see the Queen.

She had taken to talking to herself, or ‘Set’ as she claimed. No one was able to talk to her anymore, without ‘Set’ joining the conversation.

Right now, Arro was listening to ‘Set’ and Maria discuss the furniture in her room, followed by the scraping of wood on stone as the furniture was moved.

What had this ‘Set’ done to her, to make her like this?

Why did she so desperately need to find him?

Did she… love him?

That was ridiculous. From what Maria had said, it seemed the Bosmer was not a handsome man.

Ridiculous.

His Queen was a very beautiful woman. She could have any man she wanted. Why would she be so hung up over a bastard, like ‘Set?’

Purely Ridiculous.

Right?

Four Days, after Maria’s Outburst

Maria had stopped talking, entirely.

While it was a nice change, after listening to her babble on and on to Set, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day…

However, Arro was still very worried.

Maria sat on her throne, her back hunched over, and her hair bedraggled and limp. Her eyes were wide, and innocent, like a child’s.

Arro watched her from the shadows, sighing, as tears ran down her cheeks. The scouts had begun to return, bringing her reports of no Scarred Bosmeri in the places they had found.

So far, they had all returned, besides the Scouts at the Imperial City, Cheydinhal, and Falcrenth.

Arro strode out, stepping between his Queen and the Search Party from the Rift. “Get out.” He growled, ushering them away. “Can’t you see that she only wants to hear good news?!”

The Rift Searchers sighed, heading out of the room.

Maria’s face brightened a little, now that they were all gone, but tears still ran down her face.

Arro sighed, running his hands through his hair as he watched the Beautiful Monarch. “I’m sorry…”

Maria didn’t answer, but that was hardly surprising.

Arro left the room, stopping in the hall and slamming his fist at the wall.

“Damn him!” He growled, as he slammed his fist, over and over, into the stone wall.

''Why did she love… him?! He left her! He abandoned her!''

''If I ever find him…. I’ll…. I’ll…''

''Kill him! I’ll kill him for what he has done to the Queen!''

Five Days, after Maria’s Outburst

Maria lay in the garden, one of the only places in the Underland where trees, flowers, normal plants could grow, naturally. Her favorite flower there was the Mara Vine, a red flower found only in that Garden.

They grew like grapes, hanging down. They had red, star-shaped flowers that provided a scent so beautiful, so enchanting, that it only brought back pleasant memories. The fruit of that vine was shaped like grapes, but was much more delicious. It was very sweet. When placed into wine, or ale, a single sip of that special alcohol could put you in a drunken stupor.

As she lay there, most of the memories coming back were of him.

And with those memories, came all the bad ones.

She didn’t dwell on those, however. She was too busy remembering him… Set… Her Set- No, Julie’s Set.

No matter what he said, or did, she would always love him, unconditionally. Even though he chose Julie, Maria still loved him. Even though he had killed himself, she still loved him. Even though he had abandoned her, she still loved him. Even though he was turning her insane, she still loved him.

She could only remember the good things about him. Not his brutality, not his unmorally, to her.

The way his black hair seemed to catch the sunlight, as he walked through the forest.

The way he said, ‘I love you.’

The way he walked.

The way he said her name.

The way his scars seemed to make him all the more handsome, in her eyes. Of course, the scars… Maria thought, bitterly. ''Why can’t I have scars? ‘Tough as Nails, Scars to prove it!’ That’s what you always say, isn’t it Set? Am I not tough?''

Am I not worthy of you attention?

She shook her head, as if to shake those thoughts out of her head. Instead, they got pushed to a dark corner of her mind, where all the bad things seemed to dwell.

She loved everything about him.

The way that he was so kind to her children, even when they weren’t his.

The way he seemed to enjoy Maria’s company, even if he hadn’t bothered to learn much about her.

Maria felt like she was a third wheel.

In everything.

Thinking of Set brought back memories of being ignored, when Julie was around. Having to care for her own injuries, when Julie was injured… Being left behind…

The only thing she seemed to be not a third wheel in was the Underland.

They loved her, here-

Stop it. She scolded herself. ''You’re not staying for long. You’re gonna get out of here, get Set-and, in extension, Julie- and kill Telemachus.''

She pushed these thought back to the Dark Corner, which seemed almost full to the brim of her dark thoughts, and anger, and pain…

Back to Set.

The way he kissed her.

The way he ran his fingers through her hair.

The way his warm breath felt against her neck.

The way his-wait, warm breath?

She could almost feel it.

She opened her eyes, seeing a figure that seemed to be ringed in light. The lamp behind him seemed to make it almost impossible for her to make out his features.

One thing she could see was his dagger driving down for her skull.

She moved her head to the side, so his dagger impaled itself in the dirt. She screamed, shoving him off of her. W-what?!

The figure stood up, dusting himself off. Maria did the same, and stared at him. He had the typical Under-Redguard skin, but it was paler.

Much paler.

His body and face were decrepit, and shriveled. Like… he was dead.

Instead of the typical purple eyes she had come to expect from his race, his eyes were pure white, with no irises, no pupils.

Like… Namira’s Chosen.

Like… Set.

She groaned, shakily taking her sword out of its scabbard. “G-get away.” She croaked, at him.

The Fallen just grunted.

It lunged at her, and she swung her sword, decapitating the undead being. Luckily for her, this time, Dawnbreaker didn’t explode.

She picked up the head, determined to find out who this was, as she cast flames, incinerating the body.

This plague would not infect her new people.

--…--

Arro raised an eyebrow, as Maria strode into his office, carrying a severed head. “Maria, what…?” He asked, not expecting her to answer.

She frowned, tossing the head on the desk so the face was turned to Arro. “Who is this?” She croaked out, her voice unwieldy, and soft, from under-use.

Arro raised his eyebrows, in shock. “That’s Umir, my lady. He was part of the Scouting party from Falcrenth-”

“Falkreath.” Maria corrected, irritably.

Arro nodded. “-Falkreath. What happened?”

“He’s been plagued.” Maria growled. “From something near Falkreath. And we have to kill it, at it’s source.”

Even if it is him…

Arro nodded. “Does that mean…?”

“Yes.” Maria replied. “The Underlanders go to war.”