Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140624141326/@comment-5583506-20140624221457

Arngrim felt unease and his hand had never left the hilt since the arena. He drew "the Bastard" from the scabbard with a sharp clang and slowly spun around, scanning the area for eventual threats. The advantages of being a lycanthrop was his keen sense of smell, but this place reeked of ashes, dust, lava and... filth... It clouded his mind.

He growled. "I really, really hate this place... If this had been back on Nirn I might have smelled the enemy coming, but my senses are completely dull and useless in this forsaken..." He kicked a rock down the lava lake. "... hell in Oblivion."