Snippet #2055566

located in Skyrim, a part of Skyrim: The Mentor & The Sellswords, one of the many universes on RPG.




Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dominicus Drayk Character Portrait: Sinderion Direnni
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »


Add Footnote »

0.00 INK

Sinderion Direnni
The Reach, Hag Rock Redoubt

Sinderion’s usually-bright eyes were nearly black as his pupils dilated to filter in as much light as possible. Increased night-vision was not one of the more visceral perks of his condition, but this hardly mattered when you could smell more acutely than the average hound. The air here was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, many in close proximity, most likely. He gave the group the signal when he first caught a whiff, and that was where they left their horses. It would be better to proceed as silently as possible from here.

Not everyone was particularly stealth-oriented, but they all did well enough for the purpose at hand. Deep in a crouch, Sinderion placed his feet carefully so as not to needlessly disturb any of the detritus that littered the ground. He noted with distaste that there were old bones strewn in with the refuse of old campfires and waste from the fortress. Not all of the fecal matter he could smell was animal, either.

While knowing what you were dealing with was always an advantage, sometimes, he imagined it must be nice that the unidentified stench in the air was just that: unidentified.

He wondered, looking at the fortress, if these Forsworn were true to form and communed with hagravens. For reasons very old and very personal, Sinder still felt a slow-burning hatred for hagravens, a smoulder in his gut stoked only by the presence of those particularly-foul creatures. Glenmoril witches were the only beings he hated more, and there was no mistaking the association between the two. The Forsworn were similar, but they had not forced werewolves’ blood down his throat and cackled at him as he lost control of his mind and body alike.

The low rumble he emitted from deep in his chest startled him back into the present, and he quickly quashed the memory. He had better control than this; the last thing anyone needed right now was to hear him growling of all things, and he clenched his teeth together, silently drawing his bow and nocking an arrow to the string. For now, he did not draw, just pulled the configuration taut enough that he’d be able to do so at a moment’s notice.

Drayk was speaking, and Sinderion forced himself to focus on the young man’s words. “We have to kill all of them either way,” he reminded, “and we are likely to be outnumbered. Whatever stops them from attacking all at once would be wisest.” He shot a glance at the approaches to the Redoubt and cocked his head to one side. “The side would be better, as long as the door is not barred. I could check beforehand, if you like?” That would be a bit on the risky side, but with his nose and his stealth, he should be able to avoid detection.