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Vvardenfell in Pictures

Tags: #heartsonsleeves 
  • Member
    July 28

    When he next flies down, let him bring us anger...

    Kyne's House was leaden with rain when Morihaus arrived at Khartag Point, a cave on the Bitter Coast of Vvardenfell. The area outside was already littered with the bodies of Camonna Tong thugs, and it was with pleasure that Mor added yet more worm-food to the sandy grass. The events here must have been among the occurrences which had called him down - the pitiable sobs and almost hopeless prayers of so many lives condemned to shackle and cage in this land. Slavery, ever his beast to behead.

    Outside the cave, upon a rickety boat, was a book: The Omaren Trial Transcript, the final words of one mer with the courage to fight for the freedom of others and executed for it.

    When he next flies down, let him bring us anger...

    Where there was desperation there was coin to be made. Some ropefish like Nakhul and Khartag had decent values and hearts that pumped the same colour blood as those they rescued. Others, like the Camona Tong, had ash where their hearts should be. And Morihaus would see to it that those hearts beat no more.

    There were four beings within that cave of misery who needed aid, everything else needed to be put to the sword. Mahkir didn't make it, the bloodstained letter from his loved one was all that remained of the poor Khajiit. The bellow of sadness and rage Morihaus unleashed echoed along the rock corridors.

    Guilt would haunt Wih-Waska for a long time to come, but before that wound could heal she needed to get out while she could. The way behind her was cleared, the cold corpses of dreugh and Dunmer slavers all that stood between her and the blessed sky.

    Such sentiments were vivid in Mor's memory. It was with grim delight that he took apart the three Tong who had Jaree-Eeto cornered. Their terrified screams and final death rattles as their ash-blood drained onto the cavern's floor brought the Argonian a small smile. Little consolation, but one freely gifted.

    The final soul worth saving in this dark hole had been poisoned, his ferocious strength no match for Camona Tong treachery. It was a warrior's death, though, for he witnessed the final battle as the Bull of Kyne tore apart his killers, their rent bodies dashed against the rocky walls and their viscera dripping from his axes and helm. The last one standing, Khartag could now meet his end in peace.

    Mor wondered if Avus of the Camonna Tong now regretted penning those words from whatever hell she was in.

    When he next flies down, let him bring us anger...

    Drenched in blood and gore-horned, Morihaus vowed he would work to break every chain on this cursed island.