The-Wolf69

It was a cold, windy Tirdas morning in Sun's Dusk. The night sky was starting to give way to the dawn in the city of Wayrest, lighting it up in a beautiful orange color. The streets were starting to come alive as people start to come out of their homes. The stalls were preparing to open to the populace and the city guard switches its watch. Above the spiked roofs of the city was a single Khajiit racing from roof to roof. His fur was black as midnight, his eyes a brilliant orange. He wore armor, the armor of the Thieves guild. He runs silently with his ears folded back, and his tail streaming behind him. The Khajiit jumps from house to house,

I sip my coffee as the commissioner leads me down a hallway, dimly lit and run down, as if it had not been taken care of for at least 20 years. I walk faster to get next to the commissioner, who was also still sipping his coffee. Hesitantly I decide to ask him his name "so if your my new boss, what should I call you?" He sips his coffee before stopping at a wooden door "My name? My name is Sebastian, Sebastian Renard. Family Is french, hence the name.". He opens the door for me revealing a room with a bunch of desks organized and a bunch of cops. They all stop for a minute and look at me, some glaring, before turning back to work. The room wa

I didn't sleep much that night, I just layed there contempllating my choices. It was true that I had indeed committed countless crimes and deserved to die. I think I deserve to die also simply from the amount of people I killed. I have to be one of the most dangerous people in the world, and yet here I am, still alive and well. Why didn't he just shoot me and be done with it? It would be less paperwork I would think, but I guess he has his motives. Instead of killing me outright he has given me a chance to redeem myself. Should I take it? Ugh I cant think when im this tired...maybe I'll just close my eyes for a minute... After a few seconds i

It was the middle of the night as the moons, Massaer and Secunda, shone faintly on a forest floor. The leaves blowing gently off the trees and on to a dirt pathway, landing delicately and with a purpose. The trees themselves were ancient, standing on either side of the path like quiet sentinels continuing their eternal watch. All of this was lit in a faint grey light, as the stars shone through the canopy to light the way for a lone traveler. He moved quickly through the leaves on the ground, making a faint crunch with every step he took. The figure had something under his arms, a parcel, and seemed in a hurry. He continued down the path for