"And the prisoner?"
"He isn't going anywhere. Once the execution is done and the General leaves, you can do whatever you want with these freaks. The war ends today."
Boots retreated down the stone hallway. The heavy oak door at the far end slammed shut, followed by the slide of a deadbolt.
Silence returned to the dungeon, heavy and damp.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ribs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I pulled up my status screen.
[HP: 40/100]
"Damn it," I whispered, wiping mud from my lip. "Nearly half my health gone in ten seconds."
I forced myself to sit up. The pain was real, sharp and nausea-inducing, but if the guards were talking about Ulfric, then I knew exactly where I was in the timeline.
"Helgen," I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck that had nothing to do with the beating. "Alduin is coming."
If I stayed in this cell, I wouldn't be executed. I'd be roasted alive by a dragon the size of a bus.
"I need to get out. Now."
I scanned the cell. Damp straw, stone walls, iron bars. I used [Observe] on everything, but no prompts appeared. No hidden keys, no loose bricks.
"Come on, think," I hissed. "Inventory."
A blue grid overlay appeared in my vision. My heart skipped a beat. There, sitting in the first slot, was a set of three lockpicks.
"Standard starting gear? Or did I loot these in my backstory?" It didn't matter. I materialized them into my hand. They felt cold and flimsy.
I crawled over to the cell door and stared at the keyhole.
"I know how to do this in the game," I muttered, hands trembling slightly. "Mouse up, rotate, wait for the click. But this..."
I slid the tension wrench into the bottom of the lock.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Lockpicking (Passive/Active) - Lv 1]
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. My fingers knew the angle. It wasn't muscle memory; it was the System guiding my hands, turning my movements precise. I used [Observe] on the mechanism.
[Lock Level: 25 (Apprentice)]
I applied pressure. The metal groaned. I twisted the pick, too hard.
Snap.
The pick broke in half, the jagged end pinging off the stone floor.
"Shit," I breathed. Two left.
I took a deep breath, letting [Gamer's Mind] wash away the frustration. I inserted the second pick. Gentle. Feel the tumblers. There.
Click.
The door swung open with a rusty squeal.
I almost cheered, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I slipped out into the corridor, intending to sprint for the exit I knew from the game. But as I passed the other cells, I stopped dead.
They weren't empty.
In the game, this room is usually deserted. But here, every cell was packed. Men, women, merchants, refugees, people caught in the crossfire of the civil war.
I used [Observe].
[Status: Sleeping / Beaten]
My stomach churned. I clenched my fists. "I can't just leave them."
But what could I do? I was Level 1 with 40 HP. If I woke them up, the noise would bring the guards back. If I tried to fight the guards alone, I was dead.
"Psst."
I froze. Movement from the shadows of a cell three doors down.
I crept closer, staying low. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness. It was a Khajiit, his fur matted with dried blood, but his posture alert.
He beckoned me closer with a clawed hand.
"You should get out of here, friend," the cat-man whispered, his voice raspy. "While you still have a chance. R'virr has seen a vision. The fires are coming. Something terrible... very soon."
I focused on him. [Observe].
[Name: R'virr]
[Race: Khajiit]
[Class: Monk]
[Level: 13]
[HP: 175/175]
[MP: 250/250]
[STR: 15]
[VIT: 12]
[DEX: 25]
[INT: 20]
[WIS: 30]
Level 13. He was a powerhouse compared to everyone else here. His Dex and Wis were through the roof. If anyone could clear a path through the guards, it was him.
I looked at him, then back at the sleeping prisoners.
"What about them?" I whispered.
R'virr's ears flattened against his skull. He shook his head slowly. "R'virr cannot save everyone. One cat is quiet. A herd is loud. If you stay, you burn with them."
"If you help me," I interrupted, staring him dead in the eyes, "we can get them all out."
R'virr looked at me like I was insane. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold stone.
"You speak big words for a hairless kitten," he scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? R'virr is strong, yes, but not even R'virr can walk through iron bars."
I looked at the heavy lock on his cell door. Then I looked back at him.
I held up my last lockpick, and a slow, confident grin spread across my face.
"With your help, my friend," I whispered, pointing at him through the bars. "It can be done. Here is the plan."
I quickly broke down the timing. R'virr listened, his ears twitching, eyes narrowing as he processed the risk. Once we were agreed, I slipped back to my own cell, pulled the door shut, and mimicked the sound of the lock clicking home. I crouched in the shadows, heart rate steady thanks to the passive skill.
"Now!" I hissed.
R'virr didn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out a wail that sounded like a dying mountain lion. It was ear-splitting, echoing off the damp stone walls and waking every prisoner in the block.
"Shut up!"
The heavy door down the hall banged open. The three guards stomped in, batons drawn, faces red with irritation. They ignored my cell, I was just the quiet kid, after all, and bee-lined for the Khajiit.
They threw open his "And the prisoner?"
"He isn't going anywhere. Once the execution is done and the General leaves, you can do whatever you want with these freaks. The war ends today."
Boots retreated down the stone hallway. The heavy oak door at the far end slammed shut, followed by the slide of a deadbolt.
Silence returned to the dungeon, heavy and damp.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ribs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I pulled up my status screen.
[HP: 40/100]
"Damn it," I whispered, wiping mud from my lip. "Nearly half my health gone in ten seconds."
I forced myself to sit up. The pain was real, sharp and nausea-inducing, but if the guards were talking about Ulfric, then I knew exactly where I was in the timeline.
"Helgen," I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck that had nothing to do with the beating. "Alduin is coming."
If I stayed in this cell, I wouldn't be executed. I'd be roasted alive by a dragon the size of a bus.
"I need to get out. Now."
I scanned the cell. Damp straw, stone walls, iron bars. I used [Observe] on everything, but no prompts appeared. No hidden keys, no loose bricks.
"Come on, think," I hissed. "Inventory."
A blue grid overlay appeared in my vision. My heart skipped a beat. There, sitting in the first slot, was a set of three lockpicks.
"Standard starting gear? Or did I loot these in my backstory?" It didn't matter. I materialized them into my hand. They felt cold and flimsy.
I crawled over to the cell door and stared at the keyhole.
"I know how to do this in the game," I muttered, hands trembling slightly. "Mouse up, rotate, wait for the click. But this..."
I slid the tension wrench into the bottom of the lock.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Lockpicking (Passive/Active) - Lv 1]
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. My fingers knew the angle. It wasn't muscle memory; it was the System guiding my hands, turning my movements precise. I used [Observe] on the mechanism.
[Lock Level: 25 (Apprentice)]
I applied pressure. The metal groaned. I twisted the pick, too hard.
Snap.
The pick broke in half, the jagged end pinging off the stone floor.
"Shit," I breathed. Two left.
I took a deep breath, letting [Gamer's Mind] wash away the frustration. I inserted the second pick. Gentle. Feel the tumblers. There.
Click.
The door swung open with a rusty squeal.
I almost cheered, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I slipped out into the corridor, intending to sprint for the exit I knew from the game. But as I passed the other cells, I stopped dead.
They weren't empty.
In the game, this room is usually deserted. But here, every cell was packed. Men, women, merchants, refugees, people caught in the crossfire of the civil war.
I used [Observe].
[Status: Sleeping / Beaten]
My stomach churned. I clenched my fists. "I can't just leave them."
But what could I do? I was Level 1 with 40 HP. If I woke them up, the noise would bring the guards back. If I tried to fight the guards alone, I was dead.
"Psst."
I froze. Movement from the shadows of a cell three doors down.
I crept closer, staying low. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness. It was a Khajiit, his fur matted with dried blood, but his posture alert.
He beckoned me closer with a clawed hand.
"You should get out of here, friend," the cat-man whispered, his voice raspy. "While you still have a chance. R'virr has seen a vision. The fires are coming. Something terrible... very soon."
I focused on him. [Observe].
[Name: R'virr]
[Race: Khajiit]
[Class: Monk]
[Level: 13]
[HP: 175/175]
[MP: 250/250]
[STR: 15]
[VIT: 12]
[DEX: 25]
[INT: 20]
[WIS: 30]
Level 13. He was a powerhouse compared to everyone else here. His Dex and Wis were through the roof. If anyone could clear a path through the guards, it was him.
I looked at him, then back at the sleeping prisoners.
"What about them?" I whispered.
R'virr's ears flattened against his skull. He shook his head slowly. "R'virr cannot save everyone. One cat is quiet. A herd is loud. If you stay, you burn with them."
"If you help me," I interrupted, staring him dead in the eyes, "we can get them all out."
R'virr looked at me like I was insane. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold stone.
"You speak big words for a hairless kitten," he scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? R'virr is strong, yes, but not even R'virr can walk through iron bars."
I looked at the heavy lock on his cell door. Then I looked back at him.
I held up my last lockpick, and a slow, confident grin spread across my face.
"With your help, my friend," I whispered, pointing at him through the bars. "It can be done. Here is the plan."
I quickly broke down the timing. R'virr listened, his ears twitching, eyes narrowing as he processed the risk. Once we were agreed, I slipped back to my own cell, pulled the door shut, and mimicked the sound of the lock clicking home. I crouched in the shadows, heart rate steady thanks to the passive skill.
"Now!" I hissed.
R'virr didn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out a wail that sounded like a dying mountain lion. It was ear-splitting, echoing off the damp stone walls and waking every prisoner in the block.
"Shut up!"
The heavy door down the hall banged open. The three guards stomped in, batons drawn, faces red with irritation. They ignored my cell, I was just the quiet kid, after all, and bee-lined for the Khajiit.
They threw open his gate. The executioner didn't ask questions; "And the prisoner?"
"He isn't going anywhere. Once the execution is done and the General leaves, you can do whatever you want with these freaks. The war ends today."
Boots retreated down the stone hallway. The heavy oak door at the far end slammed shut, followed by the slide of a deadbolt.
Silence returned to the dungeon, heavy and damp.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ribs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I pulled up my status screen.
[HP: 40/100]
"Damn it," I whispered, wiping mud from my lip. "Nearly half my health gone in ten seconds."
I forced myself to sit up. The pain was real, sharp and nausea-inducing, but if the guards were talking about Ulfric, then I knew exactly where I was in the timeline.
"Helgen," I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck that had nothing to do with the beating. "Alduin is coming."
If I stayed in this cell, I wouldn't be executed. I'd be roasted alive by a dragon the size of a bus.
"I need to get out. Now."
I scanned the cell. Damp straw, stone walls, iron bars. I used [Observe] on everything, but no prompts appeared. No hidden keys, no loose bricks.
"Come on, think," I hissed. "Inventory."
A blue grid overlay appeared in my vision. My heart skipped a beat. There, sitting in the first slot, was a set of three lockpicks.
"Standard starting gear? Or did I loot these in my backstory?" It didn't matter. I materialized them into my hand. They felt cold and flimsy.
I crawled over to the cell door and stared at the keyhole.
"I know how to do this in the game," I muttered, hands trembling slightly. "Mouse up, rotate, wait for the click. But this..."
I slid the tension wrench into the bottom of the lock.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Lockpicking (Passive/Active) - Lv 1]
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. My fingers knew the angle. It wasn't muscle memory; it was the System guiding my hands, turning my movements precise. I used [Observe] on the mechanism.
[Lock Level: 25 (Apprentice)]
I applied pressure. The metal groaned. I twisted the pick, too hard.
Snap.
The pick broke in half, the jagged end pinging off the stone floor.
"Shit," I breathed. Two left.
I took a deep breath, letting [Gamer's Mind] wash away the frustration. I inserted the second pick. Gentle. Feel the tumblers. There.
Click.
The door swung open with a rusty squeal.
I almost cheered, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I slipped out into the corridor, intending to sprint for the exit I knew from the game. But as I passed the other cells, I stopped dead.
They weren't empty.
In the game, this room is usually deserted. But here, every cell was packed. Men, women, merchants, refugees, people caught in the crossfire of the civil war.
I used [Observe].
[Status: Sleeping / Beaten]
My stomach churned. I clenched my fists. "I can't just leave them."
But what could I do? I was Level 1 with 40 HP. If I woke them up, the noise would bring the guards back. If I tried to fight the guards alone, I was dead.
"Psst."
I froze. Movement from the shadows of a cell three doors down.
I crept closer, staying low. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness. It was a Khajiit, his fur matted with dried blood, but his posture alert.
He beckoned me closer with a clawed hand.
"You should get out of here, friend," the cat-man whispered, his voice raspy. "While you still have a chance. R'virr has seen a vision. The fires are coming. Something terrible... very soon."
I focused on him. [Observe].
[Name: R'virr]
[Race: Khajiit]
[Class: Monk]
[Level: 13]
[HP: 175/175]
[MP: 250/250]
[STR: 15]
[VIT: 12]
[DEX: 25]
[INT: 20]
[WIS: 30]
Level 13. He was a powerhouse compared to everyone else here. His Dex and Wis were through the roof. If anyone could clear a path through the guards, it was him.
I looked at him, then back at the sleeping prisoners.
"What about them?" I whispered.
R'virr's ears flattened against his skull. He shook his head slowly. "R'virr cannot save everyone. One cat is quiet. A herd is loud. If you stay, you burn with them."
"If you help me," I interrupted, staring him dead in the eyes, "we can get them all out."
R'virr looked at me like I was insane. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold stone.
"You speak big words for a hairless kitten," he scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? R'virr is strong, yes, but not even R'virr can walk through iron bars."
I looked at the heavy lock on his cell door. Then I looked back at him.
I held up my last lockpick, and a slow, confident grin spread across my face.
"With your help, my friend," I whispered, pointing at him through the bars. "It can be done. Here is the plan."
I quickly broke down the timing. R'virr listened, his ears twitching, eyes narrowing as he processed the risk. Once we were agreed, I slipped back to my own cell, pulled the door shut, and mimicked the sound of the lock clicking home. I crouched in the shadows, heart rate steady thanks to the passive skill.
"Now!" I hissed.
R'virr didn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out a wail that sounded like a dying mountain lion. It was ear-splitting, echoing off the damp stone walls and waking every prisoner in the block.
"Shut up!"
The heavy door down the hall banged open. The three guards stomped in, batons drawn, faces red with irritation. They ignored my cell, I was just the quiet kid, after all, and bee-lined for the Khajiit.
They threw open his gate. The executioner didn't ask questions; he just swung his heavy gloved fist into "And the prisoner?"
"He isn't going anywhere. Once the execution is done and the General leaves, you can do whatever you want with these freaks. The war ends today."
Boots retreated down the stone hallway. The heavy oak door at the far end slammed shut, followed by the slide of a deadbolt.
Silence returned to the dungeon, heavy and damp.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ribs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I pulled up my status screen.
[HP: 40/100]
"Damn it," I whispered, wiping mud from my lip. "Nearly half my health gone in ten seconds."
I forced myself to sit up. The pain was real, sharp and nausea-inducing, but if the guards were talking about Ulfric, then I knew exactly where I was in the timeline.
"Helgen," I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck that had nothing to do with the beating. "Alduin is coming."
If I stayed in this cell, I wouldn't be executed. I'd be roasted alive by a dragon the size of a bus.
"I need to get out. Now."
I scanned the cell. Damp straw, stone walls, iron bars. I used [Observe] on everything, but no prompts appeared. No hidden keys, no loose bricks.
"Come on, think," I hissed. "Inventory."
A blue grid overlay appeared in my vision. My heart skipped a beat. There, sitting in the first slot, was a set of three lockpicks.
"Standard starting gear? Or did I loot these in my backstory?" It didn't matter. I materialized them into my hand. They felt cold and flimsy.
I crawled over to the cell door and stared at the keyhole.
"I know how to do this in the game," I muttered, hands trembling slightly. "Mouse up, rotate, wait for the click. But this..."
I slid the tension wrench into the bottom of the lock.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Lockpicking (Passive/Active) - Lv 1]
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. My fingers knew the angle. It wasn't muscle memory; it was the System guiding my hands, turning my movements precise. I used [Observe] on the mechanism.
[Lock Level: 25 (Apprentice)]
I applied pressure. The metal groaned. I twisted the pick, too hard.
Snap.
The pick broke in half, the jagged end pinging off the stone floor.
"Shit," I breathed. Two left.
I took a deep breath, letting [Gamer's Mind] wash away the frustration. I inserted the second pick. Gentle. Feel the tumblers. There.
Click.
The door swung open with a rusty squeal.
I almost cheered, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I slipped out into the corridor, intending to sprint for the exit I knew from the game. But as I passed the other cells, I stopped dead.
They weren't empty.
In the game, this room is usually deserted. But here, every cell was packed. Men, women, merchants, refugees, people caught in the crossfire of the civil war.
I used [Observe].
[Status: Sleeping / Beaten]
My stomach churned. I clenched my fists. "I can't just leave them."
But what could I do? I was Level 1 with 40 HP. If I woke them up, the noise would bring the guards back. If I tried to fight the guards alone, I was dead.
"Psst."
I froze. Movement from the shadows of a cell three doors down.
I crept closer, staying low. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness. It was a Khajiit, his fur matted with dried blood, but his posture alert.
He beckoned me closer with a clawed hand.
"You should get out of here, friend," the cat-man whispered, his voice raspy. "While you still have a chance. R'virr has seen a vision. The fires are coming. Something terrible... very soon."
I focused on him. [Observe].
[Name: R'virr]
[Race: Khajiit]
[Class: Monk]
[Level: 13]
[HP: 175/175]
[MP: 250/250]
[STR: 15]
[VIT: 12]
[DEX: 25]
[INT: 20]
[WIS: 30]
Level 13. He was a powerhouse compared to everyone else here. His Dex and Wis were through the roof. If anyone could clear a path through the guards, it was him.
I looked at him, then back at the sleeping prisoners.
"What about them?" I whispered.
R'virr's ears flattened against his skull. He shook his head slowly. "R'virr cannot save everyone. One cat is quiet. A herd is loud. If you stay, you burn with them."
"If you help me," I interrupted, staring him dead in the eyes, "we can get them all out."
R'virr looked at me like I was insane. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold stone.
"You speak big words for a hairless kitten," he scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? R'virr is strong, yes, but not even R'virr can walk through iron bars."
I looked at the heavy lock on his cell door. Then I looked back at him.
I held up my last lockpick, and a slow, confident grin spread across my face.
"With your help, my friend," I whispered, pointing at him through the bars. "It can be done. Here is the plan."
I quickly broke down the timing. R'virr listened, his ears twitching, eyes narrowing as he processed the risk. Once we were agreed, I slipped back to my own cell, pulled the door shut, and mimicked the sound of the lock clicking home. I crouched in the shadows, heart rate steady thanks to the passive skill.
"Now!" I hissed.
R'virr didn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out a wail that sounded like a dying mountain lion. It was ear-splitting, echoing off the damp stone walls and waking every prisoner in the block.
"Shut up!"
The heavy door down the hall banged open. The three guards stomped in, batons drawn, faces red with irritation. They ignored my cell, I was just the quiet kid, after all, and bee-lined for the Khajiit.
They threw open his gate. The executioner didn't ask questions; he just swung his heavy gloved fist into "And the prisoner?"
"He isn't going anywhere. Once the execution is done and the General leaves, you can do whatever you want with these freaks. The war ends today."
Boots retreated down the stone hallway. The heavy oak door at the far end slammed shut, followed by the slide of a deadbolt.
Silence returned to the dungeon, heavy and damp.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ribs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I pulled up my status screen.
[HP: 40/100]
"Damn it," I whispered, wiping mud from my lip. "Nearly half my health gone in ten seconds."
I forced myself to sit up. The pain was real, sharp and nausea-inducing, but if the guards were talking about Ulfric, then I knew exactly where I was in the timeline.
"Helgen," I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck that had nothing to do with the beating. "Alduin is coming."
If I stayed in this cell, I wouldn't be executed. I'd be roasted alive by a dragon the size of a bus.
"I need to get out. Now."
I scanned the cell. Damp straw, stone walls, iron bars. I used [Observe] on everything, but no prompts appeared. No hidden keys, no loose bricks.
"Come on, think," I hissed. "Inventory."
A blue grid overlay appeared in my vision. My heart skipped a beat. There, sitting in the first slot, was a set of three lockpicks.
"Standard starting gear? Or did I loot these in my backstory?" It didn't matter. I materialized them into my hand. They felt cold and flimsy.
I crawled over to the cell door and stared at the keyhole.
"I know how to do this in the game," I muttered, hands trembling slightly. "Mouse up, rotate, wait for the click. But this..."
I slid the tension wrench into the bottom of the lock.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Lockpicking (Passive/Active) - Lv 1]
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. My fingers knew the angle. It wasn't muscle memory; it was the System guiding my hands, turning my movements precise. I used [Observe] on the mechanism.
[Lock Level: 25 (Apprentice)]
I applied pressure. The metal groaned. I twisted the pick, too hard.
Snap.
The pick broke in half, the jagged end pinging off the stone floor.
"Shit," I breathed. Two left.
I took a deep breath, letting [Gamer's Mind] wash away the frustration. I inserted the second pick. Gentle. Feel the tumblers. There.
Click.
The door swung open with a rusty squeal.
I almost cheered, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I slipped out into the corridor, intending to sprint for the exit I knew from the game. But as I passed the other cells, I stopped dead.
They weren't empty.
In the game, this room is usually deserted. But here, every cell was packed. Men, women, merchants, refugees, people caught in the crossfire of the civil war.
I used [Observe].
[Status: Sleeping / Beaten]
My stomach churned. I clenched my fists. "I can't just leave them."
But what could I do? I was Level 1 with 40 HP. If I woke them up, the noise would bring the guards back. If I tried to fight the guards alone, I was dead.
"Psst."
I froze. Movement from the shadows of a cell three doors down.
I crept closer, staying low. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me from the darkness. It was a Khajiit, his fur matted with dried blood, but his posture alert.
He beckoned me closer with a clawed hand.
"You should get out of here, friend," the cat-man whispered, his voice raspy. "While you still have a chance. R'virr has seen a vision. The fires are coming. Something terrible... very soon."
I focused on him. [Observe].
[Name: R'virr]
[Race: Khajiit]
[Class: Monk]
[Level: 13]
[HP: 175/175]
[MP: 250/250]
[STR: 15]
[VIT: 12]
[DEX: 25]
[INT: 20]
[WIS: 30]
Level 13. He was a powerhouse compared to everyone else here. His Dex and Wis were through the roof. If anyone could clear a path through the guards, it was him.
I looked at him, then back at the sleeping prisoners.
"What about them?" I whispered.
R'virr's ears flattened against his skull. He shook his head slowly. "R'virr cannot save everyone. One cat is quiet. A herd is loud. If you stay, you burn with them."
"If you help me," I interrupted, staring him dead in the eyes, "we can get them all out."
R'virr looked at me like I was insane. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold stone.
"You speak big words for a hairless kitten," he scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? R'virr is strong, yes, but not even R'virr can walk through iron bars."
I looked at the heavy lock on his cell door. Then I looked back at him.
I held up my last lockpick, and a slow, confident grin spread across my face.
"With your help, my friend," I whispered, pointing at him through the bars. "It can be done. Here is the plan."
I quickly broke down the timing. R'virr listened, his ears twitching, eyes narrowing as he processed the risk. Once we were agreed, I slipped back to my own cell, pulled the door shut, and mimicked the sound of the lock clicking home. I crouched in the shadows, heart rate steady thanks to the passive skill.
"Now!" I hissed.
R'virr didn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out a wail that sounded like a dying mountain lion. It was ear-splitting, echoing off the damp stone walls and waking every prisoner in the block.
"Shut up!"
The heavy door down the hall banged open. The three guards stomped in, batons drawn, faces red with irritation. They ignored my cell, I was just the quiet kid, after all, and bee-lined for the Khajiit.
They threw open his gate. The executioner didn't ask questions; he just swung his heavy gloved fist into R'virr's stomach.
"I'll give you something to scream about, you dumb cat!" stomach.
"I'll give you something to scream about, you dumb cat!" stomach.
"I'll give you something to scream about, you dumb cat!" just swung his heavy gloved fist into R'virr's stomach.
"I'll give you something to scream about, you dumb cat!". The executioner didn't ask questions; he just swung his heavy gloved fist into R'virr's stomach.
"I'll give you something to scream about, you dumb cat!"