
A bright sun shone
through a deep blue sky on an idyllic, Cyrodilic stretch of country road.
Shafts of light trickled through the trees onto vivid seas of multi-colored
flowers, casting a dreamy glow on the scene as insects chirped and butterflies
fluttered past. Birds were softly singing, grass was swaying in the breeze, and
mudcrabs were keeping to themselves far away from the worthwhile species of the
world. All in all, it was a peaceful scene on a perfect day.
And then the flowers gave
a muted “splat” as they were pelted with what looked like the fragmented remains of an eyeball.
“Have you ever considered using a less...messy weapon?” asked Martin as
he gingerly stepped around the pooling blood of the seventh wolf corpse today.









