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Through the psycopath's antics, Cedrida found inflammation around his neck from mild irritation. He could end it there, but he was much too curious about what the cat had in mind for him. He wanted to know what trap was to be placed. The interior was welcoming, the khajiit alike, but Cedrida was...

The khajiit was simply a mirror image, save for the manic mentality. The wicked grin that took place of what was once marginally startled meant little to Cedrida, as while it held so much it proved nothing. The detective settled for an icy, knowing stare, bold as the khajiit's little praise of...

The criminal had contacts, friends that were loyal if nothing to be so devoted to muteness to keep their friendly murderer secured. It absolutely irked him, but the prize was right there, foolishly thick-skulled and missing the details - his buddies would come later. His contacts thought him to...

Instead of immediately going in a spree of questions with every guard, Cedrida instead took to eyeing the snow for any of the murderer's tracks, whether it be blood or the u-pattern of a horse's hoof. He was mad to go after the killer, but he was civil enough to keep the scene to himself. What...

He probably looked ridiculous, so fixated on the hair that glistened silver in the light, never dropped in the acrobatics of his thumb and pointer's finger. This hair, through his otherworldly vision, was enchanted with youth. It did not hold the dull gray of an older hair, but was banded by...

In the horror of the main room did the detective balance rigidly between the corpses. His fangs shifted in their gums in interest of the scene's gory glory, unlike the true emotion that squirmed and screamed behind his blank face. It was unnerving, the chaotic aftermath of the massacre compared...

The courier was breathless with sweat singeing his eyes, but he was shivering in his cold blood. His hair was dyed white under his cap. He was perhaps too traumatized for this duty, but his subconscious was his anchor on his quest to alert the nearby settlements. He nearly nailed the web between...

She allowed herself to be harpooned in the two days of knowing the fellowship, the spear relentlessly tugging her wherever the gaggle went, and she came willingly. Why was beyond her. She simply did not know, and Morthaine abhorred both simplicity and not knowing. With this confusion burned an...

This week is going to be hectic with the big test tomorrow, but I am going to post soon nevertheless :^)

To clarify, Cedrida was not aware that the case was presented to the public as an invitation :^)

Cedrida's consternation was present, though not quite visible, and lessened with each armed individual welcoming themselves into the tavern. In spite of, he analyzed every prominent detail to separate and recognize what may be his hunters, hindrances, or - most absurdly - allies. He thumbed the...

The body unconscious, Morthaine allowed herself to appear poised, granted she still gripped the sooted shield. Sparks populated the blackened surface, evolving to no more than an occasional flicker. Her faded boots were established next to the body for a solid five minutes, and the time was used...

The music ceased, punctuated by a hushed buzz from a startled bard. The paper dented and stained from the quill's blade, and irritation was evident by the detective's rigid posture. Irritation not from the invading chill, but from the new freckle on the parchment. He lost his thought. His teeth...

⤜| Cedrida Ibn'nar |⤛ (SEH-DRY-DUH EYE-BIN-NAR) ↞↞↠↠ General × The Ace of Spades; He goes by Spadi (SPAH-DIE; short for Spadille) to those he is not familiar with. × Age is estimated in the range of his late thirties, but he could be much older due to his condition. × An Imperial with...

Ooo, this is interesting with the mystery! Hopefully it is not too late to insert a card when I get the chance (might be a while considering that it is a work in progress, but it shouldn't take me more than two days at most).

:beermug: MERRY :beermug:

The lesion in her right was begging mercy, but Morthaine was merciless, even to herself. The pain would be irritating if the assassin wasn't so immersed in her greed for death. Naturally, she channeled the weakness elsewhere on the body, if she wasn't to abandon the feeling all together. Her...

I can reply later today with more action. I'm rolling with a vague depiction of the fort's layout- sorry if it ends up a little confusing.

Morthaine was certain that her heart had reached its final stage of solid and still when the first bolt signalled fight or flight. She stared boldly at the stiff, threatening bolt that marked the ground, and her lungs urged her chest to decompress. She visibly had not recoiled, though her...

Morthaine disregarded how the gate huffed at her heels as she entered the barrens. She kept herself assigned to the aft. Last, though "least" was a mere impression to her. Since she subconsciously decided to not come within a yard of the backmost lurkers, she kept her pace dynamic. Her leer was...