Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20140606005130/@comment-12599067-20140609005732

Volarano strode through flaming rubble, with fire flickering behind him and ash swirling in the air like black snow. His cloak was tattered and burnt at the hem, and there was blood spattered on the front of his usually gleaming armor, but he was pratically unharmed and felt no fear. Adrenaline surged through his veins, giving him renewed strength to enact his vengeance on the those who had caused him so much pain. But now only one remained, and he was going to end this nightmare, once and for all. Wordlessly he pushed open the ornate door before him and entered the main tower of the fortress at the Elder's Ring. The elderly Thalmor commander was already climbing up the stairs, but he would not escape. Vol sent an elven arrow into the commander's leg, causing him to cry out and fall forwards, at which point he slid down the steps and onto the ground next to Vol.

Volarano turned to the elven commander, the sniveling, desperate wretch before him, who had turned to face him with a look of utter and complete defeat and pity. Volarano nocked an arrow and aimed at the commander, waiting for the commander to make his last speech about how the Thalmor would never truly be defeated.

He didn't get one.

"Please... please, enough! Have mercy on an old soul!" the commander cried desperately, tears of fear and desperation pouring from his eyes.

Volarano's answer was simple.

"No." the Altmer replied, letting go of the bowstring.