Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20140606005130/@comment-5543592-20140614013555

"He is many names.  The Brethern, those you deem 'Half-Nakeds', call him God.  He is the Markynaz of the Deep Ones.  He would be a 'king' in your tounge.  The Deep Ones have followed him since the beginning of time, when we first inhabitated the Tamriel underground."

Emrey met Brighid's eyes, to let her know he understood, but looked concerned. They'd made a mistake trusting a Daedra in the past. It had a factor in starting all this.

"Very well, we accept." Said Emrey. "Take us too your master."

"I'm sorry Emrey, but I'm not trusting this beast, I'm going to kill it.  Besides this gives me the perfect opporunity to complete my mission." He drew his daggers. The Dremora finched, as if somehow Anaril was someone it couldn't hurt. It's eyes looked on the Altmer's necklace, it was something of importance, the glowing blue stone in particular. The dream world simmered. The group had all their gear back, and all of the Count's staff vanished. The castle was empty, except for the group, Anaril, and the Count.

Emrey drew his sword. "Easy, Anaril.  Let's not do anything hasty.  No one has to die."

"On contrary." Anaril darted forward. Emrey hadn't been expecting it, in fact, he'd been expecting Anaril to do the opposite, to put his daggers away and listen. Perhaps he had gotten to complacent, or perhaps he was unprepared, spending some many months doing other things besides military training. That, coupled with the weakness of his captivity, gave Anaril the window to bury a dagger in the middle of Emrey's chest. Emrey crashed to the ground. Anaril left the dagger there. He turned sharply and threw his second, hitting the Count right in the center of the head. In that instant the dream world shattered, and everyone was shipped back to reality.

The group was still in their position on the floor, where they had fallen unconsious. Anaril was the first to his feet. He rushed to the Dremora, which was now lying on the ground, a bloody wound in it's head. There was no dagger, which is most likely because Anaril's daggers were still at his side in the real world, and the wounds had been sustained in limbo (of course that begged the question of how they transferred to the real world). Anaril, approaching the Daedra's corspe, tore the stone from his neck, and plunged it into the Daedra's head. He spent several second kneeled there, while the group recovered. Everyone of them was currently experiencing a spliting head ache. Anaril, once had apparently got what he wanted, shoved the stone in the folds of his armor and sprinted off, gone.

Leaving the group, the Dremora, and Emrey lying on the floor. Emrey lay coughing and sputtering, inane amounts of blood pouring from his chest.