As the hulking Nord, Hakaul, brazenly steps forward Livia sets her plan into motion.
A large, ominous vortex appears behind the Orc and Imperial. A Destruction Mage Dremora, unusually dressed in fine clothes, smiles menacingly at the stunned naked men readying an extraordinary staff in the form of a wicked rose. He casted the otherworldly staff’s power conjuring another vortex that formed at the spread feet of his bounded master.
A heavy armoured Dremora Markynaz appeared in front of the Nordic cult leader, dwarfing him by being two heads taller and vastly bulkier in body weight. The tribal tattooed Nord fell backwards in shock, absolute horror claiming his ashen face that held cold impassiveness moments ago. The fear-invoking creature roared with rage and was delighted at the terror-stricken mortals, all scattering away from the Oblivion visitor, crying out in terror. What the Dremora does next is out of his ordinary routine of slaughtering enemies for its conjurer. Its dark skinned hands were alight with silver and green magicka, casting the charged spell over the first five cultists then entrapping the last four with nets of sticky but tough green-black webs that can entrap a full-grown Mammoth. As for the cult leader, the Dremora chuckles darkly whilst kicking him onto one of the struggling masses of ensnared cultists.
The finely dressed Dremora enters the circle. He kneels down by Livia’s hands to incinerate the rope around her wrists and ankles without burning her flesh. As any gentleman would do he helped his master sit up then steadied her as she shakily rose to stand. Livia reaches for her short neck. Her fingers touched and inspected a fitted leather collar. After removing it and with further examination the Imperial discovers a potent speech suppressing enchantment tied to the collar. Clever, she internally complimented on the foresight of her rapists. Impressed but sickened.
The Dremora Butler handed her a soft and warm woollen cloak, fussing with the adjustment of the clasp after she puts it on. The Imperial was amused at her Secret Servant’s mother-hen behaviour but nods her thanks to the polite Dremora.
The woman turns to scan over the bounded men. Her expression becomes solemn and impassive as she takes in the sight of her petrified rapists. She clocks the newest recruits she does not recognise from her first rape by the same cultists that are currently present. She especially recognised the tattooed Nord; her first rapist and father of her children.
The empowered Dragonborn approaches the said man.
He is perplexed and stunned at her ability to summon without readying a summoning spell. The Imperial smirks smugly at the Nord. One of the virtues of obtaining the conjuring spells from the Untold Legends is being granted the ability to simply will the summoning; no physical gestures needed whatsoever.
She allowed herself to take in her surroundings. They were based in some backdrop of another ancient and completely devastated Nordic ruin of sorts. There were magnificent, great stone arches that towered a few meters before her. The only other remains were crumbling alcoves, the weather-beaten stone floor and a steady stone throne stationed in front of still-standing fragments of walls behind her; they protected her, the Dremoras and the cult from the worst of the winds whipping in from the north-east. Livia surveyed the countryside below and concludes that she was still somewhere in the south of Skyrim.
She stood before her Dremora subjects and the restrained, tensed sitting cultists
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timeasmymeasure
Misfire - Delivering Vengence (1a/?)
Date: 2014-01-12 11:53 pm (UTC)A large, ominous vortex appears behind the Orc and Imperial. A Destruction Mage Dremora, unusually dressed in fine clothes, smiles menacingly at the stunned naked men readying an extraordinary staff in the form of a wicked rose. He casted the otherworldly staff’s power conjuring another vortex that formed at the spread feet of his bounded master.
A heavy armoured Dremora Markynaz appeared in front of the Nordic cult leader, dwarfing him by being two heads taller and vastly bulkier in body weight. The tribal tattooed Nord fell backwards in shock, absolute horror claiming his ashen face that held cold impassiveness moments ago. The fear-invoking creature roared with rage and was delighted at the terror-stricken mortals, all scattering away from the Oblivion visitor, crying out in terror.
What the Dremora does next is out of his ordinary routine of slaughtering enemies for its conjurer. Its dark skinned hands were alight with silver and green magicka, casting the charged spell over the first five cultists then entrapping the last four with nets of sticky but tough green-black webs that can entrap a full-grown Mammoth. As for the cult leader, the Dremora chuckles darkly whilst kicking him onto one of the struggling masses of ensnared cultists.
The finely dressed Dremora enters the circle. He kneels down by Livia’s hands to incinerate the rope around her wrists and ankles without burning her flesh. As any gentleman would do he helped his master sit up then steadied her as she shakily rose to stand.
Livia reaches for her short neck. Her fingers touched and inspected a fitted leather collar. After removing it and with further examination the Imperial discovers a potent speech suppressing enchantment tied to the collar. Clever, she internally complimented on the foresight of her rapists. Impressed but sickened.
The Dremora Butler handed her a soft and warm woollen cloak, fussing with the adjustment of the clasp after she puts it on. The Imperial was amused at her Secret Servant’s mother-hen behaviour but nods her thanks to the polite Dremora.
The woman turns to scan over the bounded men. Her expression becomes solemn and impassive as she takes in the sight of her petrified rapists. She clocks the newest recruits she does not recognise from her first rape by the same cultists that are currently present. She especially recognised the tattooed Nord; her first rapist and father of her children.
The empowered Dragonborn approaches the said man.
He is perplexed and stunned at her ability to summon without readying a summoning spell. The Imperial smirks smugly at the Nord. One of the virtues of obtaining the conjuring spells from the Untold Legends is being granted the ability to simply will the summoning; no physical gestures needed whatsoever.
She allowed herself to take in her surroundings. They were based in some backdrop of another ancient and completely devastated Nordic ruin of sorts. There were magnificent, great stone arches that towered a few meters before her. The only other remains were crumbling alcoves, the weather-beaten stone floor and a steady stone throne stationed in front of still-standing fragments of walls behind her; they protected her, the Dremoras and the cult from the worst of the winds whipping in from the north-east. Livia surveyed the countryside below and concludes that she was still somewhere in the south of Skyrim.
She stood before her Dremora subjects and the restrained, tensed sitting cultists