Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140702211641/@comment-3293219-20140706200854

As the morning sun began to cast down on Camp Alessia, its people got ready to defend themselves. Crossbowmen and archers stood on the walls, everyone who was able carried a weapon, everyone who could fight was put on the front line. Everyone was given a sword, the men, the women, the children, the old, the weak…

Even if the purpose was for their own defence, everyone had to have a sword or at least a knife; Set wasn’t going to take any chances. Only the silhouettes of the snipers could be seen, from the horizon, making them resemble black shadow people as far as Tiberionus’ group could tell. It was at the moment that the camp was fully cast by the morning’s light that Methral stepped out of Set’s tent, revealing her incredibly pale facial features and slightly hazed eyes as she trod on the blighted grass. After mearly a week, Set’s influence had affected everyone in the camp and the very camp itself had become lifeless, decaying…

Dying…

Its people hadn’t seemed to have noticed that they were changing or they didn’t seem to mind. Methral soon found herself giving Set almost complete control of the camp as everyone felt compelled to do as he instructed, all of Set’s people had suffered the same symptoms at this point, pale skin, glazed eyes, no longer needing to eat or sleep and pain was but a distant memory. Their symptoms resembled that of Corpus disease, though they still managed to keep to their every day routines, keeping their humanity, even though they were becoming less human by the day. It wasn’t unlike what became of the Nerevarine, centuries before, after defeating Dagoth Ur and finding themselves infected with the disease, except theirs was believed to be a special case…

“Methral!?” One of the archers called, looking back over his shoulder, prompting her to run over to the nearest guard tower and approach him from behind.

“What is it?”

“Over there…” He pointed, hearing the sound of pounding boots and cheering as Tiberionus’ group began to approach the camp. The Dunmer gasped and ran back to the main block, heading to what used to be Cray’s office and hitting a switch, sounding the alarm. The sound of sirens blared across the camp, prompting everyone to draw their swords and their weapons.

There was no fear…

There was no hesitation…

The people of camp Alessia were going to war…