Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20140928191343/@comment-25479322-20141001041854

Galathil was weary, his magicka was draining, he ran. Leaving his atronachs behind, he ran towards the tavern, hoping for a good drink to regenerate his magicka.

As he entered the tavern and took off his hood, he saw guards. Looking for him, they held up a poster. With his face on it.

Nchow..