The nightmares plaguing this land--the undead, the vampires, the Daedra--they are rage. Brutal, without mercy. But he... he is worse. He alone can stand before the horde. His rage is their terror, and his might... their DOOM...
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The concept for this
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Paces away, the Spriggan lies still, hacked apart by a rusty old blade. Its mutilated carapace oozes its life-sap onto the weeping ground beneath.
I had to! I-I tried to calm it, use the rites I had learned as a child, but it kept a
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"Sir," the bandit wheezed, "there's -- he's -- they're all --"
"For the Divines' sake, spit it o
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