Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20140213025135/@comment-5543592-20140221125832

In the Imperial City...

“How hard is it to blow up one gods-damned statue?!”   Cried the Cheydinhal Captain.

The Temple of the One lay in ruins around the statue of Akatosh, what formely was Martin Septim. Fire ruins, fire balls, and fire storms had successfully smashed the temple to pieces hours ago, but it appeared as if the statue of Akatosh was indestructible.

“Lord Regent Curvos isn’t going to be happy about this.”

“Gods, we’re calling him Lord Regent now?”   Exclaimed a nearby soldier.

“Yep. Fernar’s dead. The giant Nord cut his belly open and hung him by his own insides.”

“Ugh. That's disgusting. Why in Oblivion did we agree to this? And now we’re blowing up the most sacred piece of stone in the entire Empire. What is Nirn coming to?”

“Shush, Auxiliary. You talk like that they’ll have your head.”

“What are you mortals fussing about?”   Gurgled a Kynval from behind them. The Dremora was overseeing the Temple of One’s destruction. Curvos had summoned several Daedra to supplement the Cheydinhal battalion.

“Nothing, sir. Dremora, sir."   Gushed the Captain, terrified.  " Just talking about what a dreadful day it is.”

The sky had turned red hours ago and had grown deeper in color ever since.

