[u]Ildoryn Sarano[/u] Stormhold, Black Marshes Ildoryn arrived at the city of Stormhold, weary from travelling through the murky swamps of Argonia. Immediately after entering the city, the Sentinel escorts began to scan the area, looking for any signs of an ambush aimed at them. When Ildoryn's safety was assured, he was escorted out of the silt strider and began walking towards the lord of Stormhold, Stalks-The-Stars. Wearing a set of ornate ebony armor detailed with daedric inscriptions, Ildoryn's attire attracted attention from the people around him in every step. He didn't want the attention gathered by the attire, but he had to wear it as precaution, the Argonians might be brutes in the eyes of the Dunmer, but they were also cunning and unpredictable. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [u]Roark Farandras[/u] Ald'ruhn, Morrowind The Orc blacksmiths finally arrived at Ald'ruhn, a city governed by Redoran Councilman Roark Farandras. The Orcs were escorted to their assigned living quarters before they were shown to the foundry, where they would pursue their duties pledged to Morrowind. The foundry when viewed from the outside, seemed simple, but when the Orcs entered the establishment, a facility stretching deep underground unraveled before them. The foundry was directly connected to a rich mine not far from the city, resulting to the place having a continuous supply of metal on a daily basis. Unknown to the workers, the place was also connected to a Dwemer contraption built in Molag Volen, which supplied the foundry heating to the massive furnaces used to melt down metals. Roark strode along the ash covered pathway to welcome the new addition to the workers in the foundry. Roark didn't appear to be displeased by seeing the Orcs, but he was concerned with having worshipers of Malacath working with pious Dunmer in the foundry. Seeing that if he didn't interfere with the matter early on, an inner conflict might ensue. He then walked up towards a group of Dunmer opposite where the group of Orcs were standing and said. "From this day forward, these Orcs will be leading the productions of this foundry. Our king acknowledges people by their skills, and not their beliefs or skin, so if you have doubts that they can lead you properly, prove your point by surpassing their skills in craft, then we'll take your concerns to the king himself." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [u]Oravos the Nerevarine[/u] Mournhold, Morrowind "...Kiryat" says Oravos while reading the letter from Abasi-kil. He began to reminisce the image Kiryat in his mind when he left for Akavir two centuries ago. The island was beautiful and teeming with life, something completely different from Morrowind in the past. Now, Morrowind was slowly turning into the image Kiryat when he first saw it in each passing day, which made him feel uneasy when he begins to think of what Kiryat looked right now. Just before midnight, Oravos, along with his personal guards and loyal servants, sailed towards the island in secret. If luck allows it, by sunrise they would arrive at their destination. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somewhere on the Valus Mountains Having finished settling in their new hideout, the agents began to cut-off the tongues of the civilian captives, and painfully ink them on their napes. Every captive were forced to watch the act over and over again that the scenes were embedded on their minds permanently. The tongues wiggled and twitched further for a few seconds till it finally calms down from being separated from the body. The captives never saw the faces of their captors, but they knew for one that they were twisted monsters behind the masks. After having done the acts, they were tossed back with the rest of the prisoners who also had their tongues removed that day. They were all sitting on the dimly lit cabin, howling in pain and fear, with the sight of each other drooling ropes of blood from their mouths, and nothing to keep them warm other than the naked bodies of each other. When the captors finished with all the prisoners, they began to pick them out again, one by one, to treat the wound, before returning them back. With Oravos absent at the capital, the agents halted their operations until the orders of Oravos from Mournhold arrives. While they waited for the orders, the agents took the civilian captives from the rest, and released them in the dead of the night in Cheydinhal. The agents acted swift as the guards in the town increased significantly, it actually became harder for them to move around, especially while carrying a bound captive. Once the captives were in place, their blindfolds were removed along with the bounds, sparking their instincts to escape. The scene that followed their release appeared chaotic as each one of them ran on different directions. Some battering the doors of a house to ask for help, only to frighten those who wanted to help them. Some of them ran to the patrols, while crying and howling, only to be accidentally mistaken for monstrosities and be slashed down. Some ran into the taverns and inns causing the mass panic to the customers. The whole town came to life in the middle of the night with screams filling the streets. While screams of terror filled the town, [i]someone[/i], [i]somewhere[/i], was laughing pleasingly at the sight.