fter the musician lead us a ways down the field, we noticed the ground we were walking on wasn’t just dirt, but it was mixed with bone and decaying body parts.  Our minds wandered as we understood we had passed in life, but could not grasp with why corpses were a part of this…. existence.  The musician continued to play though, and all worries were cast aside; as we formed another circle in a new grassy plain, the next man came forward…

“ was known as Paquin Carnarisle, a Breton that lived the good life in Solitude…  I established a good business making the finest clothes for the most wealthy.  They paid very good coin for custom fits and it wasn’t long before I was considered a peer amongst them.

y new wife, Klarisa, seemed to enjoy the newly found wealth too.  In my opinion, I thought it might have been too much, and it wasn’t long before I started to doubt her ability to handle the amount of money my business was bringing in for us.  She would spend it on such expensive and frivolous things.  I decided it would be best if I were to start storing my money outside of our home in a safe location.  To be fair to her though, I did allow a weekly allowance.  For some reason this upset her, and she began to withhold from me, her wifely obligations….

he cycle continued, and we grew further apart and to fill the void, I only worked more and grew the business into other regions. Where there were riches and wealthy citizens, I had a shop to accommodate them.  My business was a gold mine—literally. I was making so much money that I even started dabbling in politics, and giving payouts under the table—so to speak—in order to bribe the elties into making certain policies that would hurt my competition.  It is true what they say, “money is power”, and I was becoming incredibly powerful.
 

 found that the more I had, the more I could invest in other ventures that would in turn bring in more gold.  I no longer loved my wife, but my money…. my money was good to me.  The most beautiful thing about the female form, is that if a wife doesn’t give it, it can fortunately for me, be bought.  My desires were fulfilled from outside of my marriage since they weren’t being fulfilled at home.
 

 was truly unstoppable…  I could smuggle Skooma for my elite friends, and the local authorities knew where the biggest donations came from and who ultimately was responsible for their retirement investments.  They would’t dare touch me—even though they knew what I was doing.  Funny how their oaths were so easily forgotten when it benefitted them.  I learned the “game” and I was by far the best player in town.

till, I didn’t trust anyone with my money.  I knew that I fought for it the most, so I would protect it the most.  I began to fear of thieves finding my hideouts where I hid mountains of gold.  The thing I knew best would be to hire guards to travel with me and my private caravan.  I had 5 wagons, mostly full of very large and angry, but well payed, mercenaries.  Everyone knew  they were my personal guards.  What wasn’t so well known though, was that I had a chest built secretly into these most ornate of wagons and those chests held a large portion of my wealth—that way, I could always keep an eye on it, and did not have to trust others—life was good.  My money could go with me, and always be by my side.

n a particular bright and sunny day, I was heading down to my shop in Markath, coming from Solitude.  That path in particular is known for having brigands, but they knew not to mess with my caravan I thought.  I should not have been so smug…  The wagon in the lead was attacked;  A fiery arrow—seemingly come out of no where—shot one of my beloved horses in its neck.  When the horse jumped up to try and get away, the horse was quickly set aflame.  I didn’t know if it was magic, or a trap—it all happened so fast.

mmediately my guards went into action and circled my wagons, taking cover behind each one.  It was truly an amazing site at how well they were trained.  They were incredibly confused though I could tell; they were unable to make out from where the attack was coming from.  I looked out from the middle wagon I was hiding in, and saw what looked to be a phantom, phasing in and out.  There was an image of a man dressed in black and red gear, and as soon as I could barely see him, he vanished.  But his presence was still made known.  Another arrow shot at the guard who was closest to me.  It got him in the side of the leg--not the knee--and he went down.  He held his sword high still, and all I could hear was the sound of him coughing and choking. He came crawling towards where I could see him and he was holding his slit throat.  He motioned for me to run.
 

 could hear much cursing coming from those mercenaries—along with the sounds of arrows being let loose.  The tarps of my wagons were set ablaze, as well as the ground underneath.  The horses, still trapped in their harnesses tried so hard to get away from the fire, that in their panicked state, ended up moving the carefully placed wagons out of their positions and even tipped many of them over;  my small army was completely vulnerable.  Furthermore, my precious treasure was spilt all over the path.

very once in a while I could see an assassin moving closer, but again, as I barely made him out, he had vanished.  I didn’t know if these were demons, or vengeful ghosts.  By this time, I had taken cover by a tipped over wagon.  I looked over toward Branard—one my best friends and guards, and I could see panic on his face.  It was a look that I never saw before coming from him—the man was truly afraid for his life. Again, another arrow shot was heard.  This one flew straight into his back.  His armor had no effect--the arrow pierced straight through.  He went to his knees and I saw as if though he were kicked down the rest of the way—but no one was there.  His back opened up and I could hear him screaming for mercy.  A massive opening was being made from his lower back and tearing all the way up to his shoulders—exposing pieces of his spine.  It was a horrific site!  His cries for help and mercy were devastating to listen to.

 then saw the flash of four people around him—dressed in matching black and red assassins’ gear.  One of them had a very curved sword, covered in gore.  They only lasted a moment though, before they vanished out of site again.  After seeing my guards slaughtered off, I took off to hide in the bushes.  I laid as flat as I could…
 

 could hear the battle, along with the screaming of my closest friends.  They were being slaughtered like cattle.  The attacks seemed to take place from all around, but I could not see, nor could they, a definite source of the onslaught.  The last I saw of my friend Drovok, was him looking as if though he were struggling against someone on top of him.  I could hear his horrific cries as he lay on the ground writhing in pain.  Blood started rapidly oozing down from his eyes to the sides of his face.   He rolled over quickly, and I saw an axe phase into existence from out of nowhere and slam its’ way into the side of his neck.  I couldn’t watch….  I looked away, but I could hear his cries of agony, along with the unfathomable sound of the axe chopping through—followed by the thud of his head falling.  I felt completely sick to my stomach.  These weren’t just murders, these were outright executions.

s luck would(n't) have it, there were a couple of birds hidden out as well near the bushes I chose to take cover in.  They flurried off, and their flight gave notice to my position.  It wasn’t long before I felt a very strong point in the middle of my back.  Shortly after that, I felt a quick pain at my ankles which was followed by the warm blood flowing down the side of my foot.  That was an expert cut—the demons made it so I couldn’t run.  I tried my best to drag myself away, but it was no use.  They were right over me.  Though I could not see them, their presence was felt.  For a brief moment, I looked up at the sun shining down on me, and all was at peace--I knew my time had come.  However, that peace was soon over.  When I looked around, I saw eight men slowly appearing out of nothingness--phasing in and out again as the light seemed to bend around them, rendering them completely invisible and then phasing back into view.  They were dressed in remarkable, black and red gear.  They picked me up and slowly carried me over to one of my barrels.  They dropped me right next to it, and then picked it up together and started pouring gold coins all over me, while I was held down.  The weight of the coins became heavier, and heavier.  I was struggling to breath as they entombed me in all the gold.

…here I was.  Stuck in a coffin of gold--my own gold at that.  The weight of the coins was so heavy that I could’t move to get out--I was pinned down. The tightly packed coins prevented me from breathing, and the dust that coins collect made gasping for air all the more difficult.  I was dying.  Since this was my own gold, I knew I was being made an example of.  I see how ironic it was now-- dying by the money that I cared so deeply for.  In my final breaths, all I cared for was to see my wife one final time.  The riches, the popularity, the power, really meant nothing in the end.  The love of my life and I turned against each other over stupid gold coins.  When we met, we had nothing, and that was all we needed.  I felt so ashamed.  I had failed in my duty to be a good husband… 

 don’t know if a sick and twisted mage granted me a vision, or if horrid thoughts were plaguing my mind, but I had a vision all of a sudden of my wife.  She was dancing in a circle of men, while they threw money at her feet.  She caught the attention of men that I neglected to give, and found a way to make a means aside my piddly allowance…. 

…lever girl.

Continue. . .