Down deep in the Hall of the Dead a condemned man labored aimlessly, hacking bits of flem onto the ground every once in a while not really caring if it flecked into his greasy strands of hair. He was sure he wasn't damned forever but the musk frostbitten air quelled mucous from the inside of his nose worse than anyone he had ever met. Out of all the scum of Tamriel he belonged down here the least. Working without the slightest of luxury, laboring over some dead leader in the small light. Being surrounded by rotting people would make anyone displeased with their job. Hunkered over the corpse, the embalmer worked with his hands wet and freezing, fully into the anatomy of the dead man, but his mind was elsewhere. For the most part, it was on the final fate of his enemy. For after all the effort he put forth, it wouldn't be his hands getting dirty in the end.
After staunching the large gap he made in the body, the man reached for the ancient tome and his journal. No, he might be left down here, forever to do the dirty work of embalming the dead, the persecution would put a barrier between himself and his wishes of striking back at his enemies, but he had a plan.
"Just try it one more time. Once more and I'll have you." The mortician whispered silently to the Argonian who had officially condemned him.
YOU ARE READING
Leader's Legacy
FantasyThis story takes place in the faction of the Companions, a fighting guild defensive of Skyrim and it's people, but a little burned out from Rayond's antics. Rayond is sent on what he thinks is just another grave digging for the Thieves Guild. That...
