Guardhouse, Suran
Someone remind me why I thought it was a good idea to take a bunch of lightweights on, Llevana thought as she observed the scene. It was bad, but come on. This was the 3rd Era. People should be used to the fact that life on Tamriel is brutal by now.
A few details she noticed upon closer insepction: While the doors (sans the door through which she had entered) were either open, smashed out of their frames, or broken, the windows were intact. The guards that were clad in armor hadn't been murdered as violently as the ones who were yet unprotected. There had been no fight here.
Llela's eyes halted on a [&@%!] sword. A bit heavier than what she usually preferred, but it caught her eye for some reason. The sword's hilt rested on the torso of one of the dead guards, the blade was on the floor, partially in contact with a very dark and thick looking pool of blood. The Dunmer reached to pick it up. To her surprise, it required a bit more force to lift than she had anticipated; it was glued to the thick pool of blood. She wrenched it loose, creating a disgustingly sucking sound. The blood had been there for quite a while; whatever had taken place here could possibly have happened even before the kagouti rampage.
