Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20140925102931/@comment-24696651-20141005181313

Dande stood there, catching his breath. The fight with the four-sworded figure, short though it had been, had taken a lot out of him. He put his bow on his back, and fiddled around with the crossbow, trying to reload it. He heard a click, and assuming it meant he had reloaded, put it in his holster. He drew his sword, and crept through, half expecting a draugr to come out and throttle him. He heard footsteps, and instinctively cast Shadow and Muffle to conceal himself, then slid into the shadows, watching two dremora walk past. After checking no-one else was near, he pulled out his bow, and quickly loosed off two shots, both hitting their targets squarely in the back of the head. They were dead before they hit the ground. _______________________________________________________________________________________

Ynsgar looked out on the battlements. He breathed in the crisp, if cold, Skyrim air. It was a beautiful morning. He drank in the scenery, when he noticed a figure in grey robes. He pulled out his crossbow, warily, and noticed two hounds tearing through the snow, making for the figure. He cursed. Should he protect this strange figure he didn't know, or leave him to the dogs?

He called out, "Who goes there?"